


you must first create the universe

by pyrality



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Domestic, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Intercrural Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Smoking, Surreal Magic, dh1 low chaos compliant, post-dh1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrality/pseuds/pyrality
Summary: "Perhaps you'll find another soul to torture,” Corvo teases, “Another tired middle-aged father who is so desperate for your fickle attention."“There is no one else,” the Outsider replies suddenly, voice fierce. His brow pinches just barely. “There is no other soul like yours. When you’re gone, I’ll wait to find you again, when your soul is reincarnated in a thousand or so years.”Corvo’s heart is thudding in his ears and the Mark burns hot on his skin, under his wrappings, like it's about to burst into flames.And then, as though caught being too sentimental, the Outsider’s hands drop slowly from Corvo’s face. He looks away, voice quiet when he says, “Don't die, beloved. It would be so troublesome for me.”Corvo Attano and the Outsider, in a dance not yet occurred, and so very, very human. Or, the transformation of a lifeless god to a god in human flesh and blood with a living, beating heart.





	1. the feral creature of the void, the curious god with curious eyes

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a short fic but now it's over 30k ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> in all seriousness i do hope you guys will enjoy this fic!!! it's going to be a long ride and i've put a lot of love and care into it and i hope it shows~  
> i'll be updating this about every week~ let me know what you think!!!
> 
> if you wanna hang out come talk to me on my twitter [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!

The Outsider smiles, open-mouthed, flashing his clear white teeth at him. They're sharp, perfect triangles— not whale teeth, _sharper_ — shark teeth. Sometimes when he talks, his skin turns translucent, diaphanous, revealing the skeletal structure underneath his face and hands. He hums, the sound not unlike the hissing songs of runes and bonecharms.

"Do I frighten you, dear Corvo?" he asks, leaning forward. His hands are still tucked behind his back, the perfect image of propriety. He smiles, amused, "I'm monstrous sometimes. I apologize. The Void is not a kind place and sometimes it reflects in me.”

“I think you like it,” Corvo says before he catches himself.

The Outsider’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, gaze heavy and curious as he watches Corvo expectantly. His skin flickers, sheer, gossamer with bones visible, and then back to his normal marble white skin. Corvo’s Mark burns white-hot, like a fire from beneath his skin. He flexes his fingers slowly by his side.

“You’re a god to be feared. You don’t want people to forget that.”

The Outsider smiles wide, the curve of his mouth clearly pleased by Corvo’s answer. He reaches up, pressing his fingers just barely under Corvo’s jaw, prickling against his stubble. His fingers are cold, not ice cold, but a near thing.

“Beloved Corvo, you’re not 'most people’. You’re different. You’re _interesting_ ,” he croons, sliding his hand down from his jaw to his neck. He traces his fingers over his Adam’s Apple, keeping his touch light even as he curls his hand around Corvo’s neck to feel how his throat works in a swallow. “You’re so special, Corvo. So dear to me.”

“And what will happen when you lose interest in me?” Corvo asks. He reaches up and clasps his hand around the Outsider’s wrist. There is no pulse there, even though he can see veins beneath his skin when it turns translucent. He has been bled dry. “Will I become the next Knife of Dunwall? A Marked who fell from favor to be taken out by someone newer, younger, and more interesting?”

“You didn’t kill Daud,” the Outsider reminds him. He dissipates in Corvo’s grip and when he reappears, he’s floating languidly in the air, stretching his arms out to gesture to the expanse of the Void around them. “This place showed me so many possibilities, but you picked the one I expected least when it came to dealing with Daud.” He folds his arms against his chest, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "Are you afraid of losing my favor, Corvo? My attention is not necessarily a boon. Delilah can testify to that.”

“Delilah?”

The Outsider waves his hand, dismissive. “Someone long out of the picture now. Or shall we say, in it?” he says, and the joke seems to be a private one as he snickers. He tucks his hands back behind his back, straightening up his posture again. “The point remains, favorite. You’ll be interesting for a long time to come.”

Corvo opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the Outsider has vanished and the Void is starting to disappear around him. There’s the brief sensation of falling as the ground crumbles beneath him. He jolts awake in his bed, gasping. His sleep-blurred vision focuses until he can see the ceiling of his room in Dunwall Tower. He sits up slowly, pressing a hand to his forehead as the soft and warm bedsheets pool around his hips. He moves his hand to his throat, where the Outsider had touched earlier.

It still feels cool. 

 

~*~

 

Emily works tirelessly to right the wrongs, to put her Empire back together, piece by piece. She is so brave, a precocious ten year old with bright eyes, despite everything she’s been through. Corvo stays at her side through the meetings, the traveling, the slow rebuilding process. He does not know how any of this is interesting to the Outsider. He does not stop prowling the rooftops and stalking the streets, but there’s less unrest. He occasionally intervenes to help citizens who are wrongfully harassed by the city guard. He knocks weepers out and puts them safely back into their homes when they wander into dangerous areas in their delirious sick haze.

He does not think any of it interesting, not in comparison to the danger and thrill of his missions under the Loyalist conspiracy.

Corvo finally slips into his room through the window near three in the morning, exhausted. He overextended, he thinks. He’d used his blink too much in an attempt to cover as much ground in Dunwall as possible. At the least, he’s home now. He latches the window shut and locks it before haphazardly tossing his mask and sword onto the floor. It's a warm night, so Corvo shrugs out of his clothes, slipping off his jacket and undershirt until he’s bare-chested before diving into the bed, nesting and burrowing himself in the soft, comfortable sheets. He falls asleep only a few minutes after his head hits the pillow.

And then he wakes in the Void.

He’s still in his bed, but his bed has been stripped from his room, and the scenery around him now is the emptiness of the Void. He sits up and before he can even swing his legs out of bed, the Outsider appears next to him, floating a few inches above the bed. His hands are tucked behind his back, and his face is impassive as always.

“Hello, Corvo."

"Hello," Corvo manages after a moment, curling and flexing his fingers in his sheets. His Mark burns.

The Outsider smiles, drifting down until his feet touch the ground. He steps forward slowly, movements languid. He shifts, sitting down on the side of Corvo's bed, his hip pressing up against Corvo's knee beneath his sheets. He braces a hand on the other side of Corvo's hip, leaning close. He curls his other hand along the side of Corvo's face before trailing it down along his bare shoulder, his touch so light Corvo isn't sure if he's touching him at all. He forgets how to breathe with the Outsider this close. His expression is still neutral, carefully composed, and Corvo doesn't know what it all means.

"You're scarred," the Outsider says faintly.

His brow furrows just barely as he traces a finger over a scar over his collarbones, one of many over his body. He received most of them during his time in Coldridge Prison, but some of them were from carelessness before and after the assassination. At least three are from his duel with Daud.

"Are you surprised?"

The Outsider's brow furrows further. "No, of course not. I know the story behind most of them, actually. But it is strange to see it in person. Up close, as it were.” He pulls his hand away from Corvo, but it suddenly feels like there’s electricity, fire, crackling and scorching where he touched him, where his fingers had trailed.

“Why did you bring me here tonight?” Corvo asks finally, when he trusts his voice to not waver.

The Outsider pulls an expression, mock-innocent. “Am I not allowed to visit my Marked?”

“Why?”

The Outsider frowns again and looks away. He deliberates, mouth opening before closing without saying anything. It’s unusual to see the god have to think about what he wants to say. He finally turns his gaze up to Corvo’s again. “You pushed yourself last night, expending needless energy to canvass nearly half of Dunwall proper.” He fists his hand in the sheets by Corvo’s hips. “I can tell when my Marked draw power from the Void and I can tell you... overextended.” He purses his mouth, the curve of his mouth slanting downwards. "Why?”

“Because I love Emily,” Corvo answers easily, honestly. “She’s my daughter, and I want to do everything in my power to see her Empire prosper.”

The Outsider considers his answer before he traces a finger along his shoulder again, thoughtful. “So selfless. And so kind. I saw the money you left at the mother’s windowsill.” He turns his attention to Corvo’s Mark, glowing dimly, a pulsing pattern. “Do not forget, if you are too reckless, it will affect Dunwall and those who rely upon you."

"I know." Corvo looks away before he turns his eyes down to the Mark on his hand as well. He clenches it into a fist. "This city is mine as much as it is Emily's."

"It is your home," the Outsider says slowly, sounding pleased as he pieces together Corvo's thoughts and words and motivations. "And you've done so well to maintain it. Careful, methodical, merciful, but not without some calculated blood on your hands."

His Mark ripples with energy. He has no secrets hidden from the whale god. He is laid bare before him.

The Outsider tilts his head, smiling just barely, “This is why you’re so dear, Corvo. You practice mercy when you can,” His mouth twitches up further, “and you are so very efficient when you decide to draw your blade and cut them down.” He gestures his hand in a flourish. "Of all my Marked, you are the least brutal and cruel with your powers.”

“Considering you’re comparing me to the likes of Granny Rags and the Knife of Dunwall, I don’t think that’s anything to write home about,” Corvo says wryly.

His breath hitches when the Outsider presses his fingers to his jaw, the cold and soft pads of his fingertips digging against Corvo's stubble.

"Corvo," the Outsider breathes, leaning closer. But he is a god with no heart and no lungs because he has no blood and no breath, and yet Corvo feels cold air against his mouth when the Outsider says, ever so softly, " _Corvo_. You're very tired. It's time you went back to sleep."

The Void opens up beneath his bed and he falls— and then he startles awake in the real world. The early morning sun is shimmering through the curtains and Corvo's hands are clammy and his lips are cold and chapped.

  

~*~

  

The next time, Corvo wakes on a beach with its shimmering, golden sand and clear teal waves gently lapping at the shore. He runs a hand through his hair, sweeps the fine grains of sand out of his hair as he sits up. It looks almost like reality, if not for the blue-gray sky, a stilted, background grayscale that pervades the Void. He pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his arms on top, looking out at the horizon. Though the sky may not look pretty blue like it normally does, it is still dotted with clouds and stars. The air is fresh and crisp, and Corvo inhales deep. He hears whale calls and songs in the distance and sighs softly.

“Only you, dear Corvo, are never unsettled by the Void.”

Corvo keeps his gaze on the horizon, where his eyes are tracing nonsensical patterns in the stars and clouds. “There is nothing here that will hurt me so I am not afraid,” he replies finally, looking up. He turns his gaze to the right, behind him, to lay eyes on the Void’s keeper.

The Outsider is floating above the sand a few inches. He has his hands tucked behind his back as he looks out over the ocean before he drops his gaze to meet Corvo’s. “You think you will have my favor forever?” he asks, voice sharp, but not biting. His skin turns sheer again, a flash of bone— brilliant pure white— and then back to milky pale skin.

“Not forever,” Corvo corrects, looking back out at the water, “but for a short while longer, at least. You must bring me into the Void still because you remain interested.”

The Outsider is silent for a long while before he clicks his tongue. Corvo looks over to see the god settle his feet down onto the ground, his black boots sinking into the soft sand. He frowns down at his shoes for a second, wrinkling his nose. Corvo wonders what's bothering him before he sees the god's shoes dissipate away to leave his bare feet curling in the golden sand. He reaches down and rolls his pant legs up silently. He must sense Corvo's questioning, inquisitive looks, because he chuckles.

"Always so curious, Corvo." He straightens up after rolling both pant legs up to his knees. He walks towards the ocean, but his body is still angled towards Corvo. “Come into the water with me.”

He doubletakes. “To— To swim? We—" He corrects himself, "—I don’t have a swimsuit.”

The Outsider raises an eyebrow, smiling. “Have you never heard of skinny dipping?”

Corvo opens his mouth uselessly and then closes it. He clears his throat.

The Outsider chuckles, turning from him. “I’m teasing. Join me if you wish."

The deity wades out into the water until the water is lapping at his upper shins, near his knees. He leans back, looking up into the sky and inhaling deeply. His body looks, for once, completely relaxed and genuine. No posturing or aggrandizing, instead simply letting himself go. The Outsider inhales deep again before he drops his gaze from the sky to look out onto the water. Corvo blinks, and then suddenly the deity is gone. He looks out into the waters to see the god now sitting on a thin wood raft, legs dangled over the edge in the water, the waves splashing at his pale, thin knees.

He raises a hand, curling his finger in a beckoning gesture at Corvo.

And who is Corvo to resist.

He gets up onto his feet slowly, toeing out of his shoes as he unbuttons his jacket slowly. He feels the weight of the god's gaze on him, heavy, heady with interest. He pops the buttons slowly, each movement deliberate. He shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground. The Outsider hums appreciatively in the distance, a small smile on his lips. Corvo reaches behind his neck, grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging it over his head in one smooth motion. He balls up his shirt before tossing it aside, depositing it next to the rumpled jacket. Corvo runs a hand through his hair, feeling a little flushed because the Outsider's gaze is still very interested.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Of course, dear one." The Outsider presses the back of his hand to his mouth, chuckling. "I've seen you half nude many times, seen your scars and how you've received them, as we talked about last time. But there is something to be said about nudity in context and setting, no?"

Corvo isn't sure how to reply, so he instead wades out into the water silently, surprised to feel it is warm and not icy cold like he would have expected. He dives beneath the clear waves and swims towards the Outsider from underwater, resurfacing in front of the deity.

"Well done," he says, smiling. He claps his hands together. "Beautiful form."

Corvo brushes his wet bangs off his forehead, treading water next to the raft. "I swam a lot when I was young, growing up in Karnaca."

"Yes," the Outsider hums. He rubs his foot along the side of Corvo's arm. "Your already naturally dark skin was sun-kissed further by all the time you spent in sunlight, swimming in Karnaca's beautiful clear ocean waves."

It feels dangerous like this, toeing the line as it were, Corvo thinks. The Outsider's foot is still brushing along his arm beneath the water. Where the lines between them are blurred, lost in the waves, and they are two men caught in the waters of desire and affection. He licks his lips and tastes the salt of the ocean. He wonders if the Outsider tastes the same.

The Outsider presses his foot to the front of Corvo's chest briefly, using his body to push off of, shifting his raft back a few inches.

"The distance between us, ever-changing," he says, tilting his head, eyes curious, "what is there in store for the two of us in the future, I wonder."

Corvo wonders what it all means, if the god is as interested as he is. "You say that as though you cannot glimpse the future."

The Outsider smiles, and it is a strangely enigmatic, wistful, and fond smile. "Corvo, beloved, you still don't understand? I cannot see the future when it comes to you." He kicks his feet in the water lightly, causing the surface to break in ripples. "Like the ocean, unpredictable, you are incomprehensible to even the Void. The only thing the Void allows me to see is how the march of time affects you. I see new scars, gray and white speckled in your hair and beard. But I cannot see what change you wrought. The whims of fate, ever-changing, are known to no one but yourself, dearest."

"Is that the only reason I remain interesting to you?" Corvo asks, and his breath feels short, even though he is not tired.

The Outsider covers his mouth, eyes twinkling. "No, beloved. There's far more to you than just your nature as an anomaly. You are dear for many other reasons." He presses a finger to his own lips in a shushing gesture when he sees Corvo open his mouth again. "Hush, sweet one. You always seek to understand why when sometimes there is no why."

Corvo does not know what to say. His heart is fast beneath his skin and the Outsider looks very fond. "You're not going to swim?" he asks instead, voice quiet.

"I never properly learned how to," the Outsider concedes softly. "Though I have studied from books and watched others teach their little ones how to."

"You were young when everything happened."

The Outsider hums, a quiet, thoughtful noise. "Yes, but I am no longer young. I am four thousand years in the making and I no longer look like the little street rat I was back then."

Corvo can only assume the deity chose to assume an older visage after he was sacrificed.

"I could have made myself older still," the Outsider supplies, reading his thoughts. "But unlike you, I do not look as graceful by the time I am fifty. So I settled for a middle ground. Thirty. Thirty-five. Respectable." He pauses, clicking his tongue before smiling, " _Desirable_."

Corvo wants to ask a great many things. Why he has bothered to look ten to fifteen years into Corvo's future if it is true he can only see Corvo's visage and cannot see the events that will transpire around him. Why the Outsider wants to look attractive when it should not matter to a god like him. He finds, suddenly, he is no longer treading water by the Outsider's side, and instead standing on the beach, still damp from his swim.

"I've kept you long enough," the Outsider says, still sitting on his wood float. He smiles. "Rest well, Corvo."

"To you, as well," Corvo manages to get out as the Void starts to disappear from around him. He sees the surprised look in the Outsider's eyes before he falls out of the Void and into a deep sleep.

He dreams of standing on a crowded beach beside a dark-haired pale young man of thirty, one who is normal, human, and knows how to swim.


	2. how the universe shines the stars, constellates the constellations, or galactifies the galaxies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider dreams of constellations, warm hands, and a father with his daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said next week but here i am early ^^  
> the chapter title is an excerpt from [the essence of alan watts](http://www.wisdom2be.com/files/2fd30fc6f17ebad08eace7ece6f52684-127.html)
> 
> i think emily and corvo's relationship is very important so you'll see more of emily in the future! hopefully u enjoy her scenes as much as corvo's scenes w/ the outsider

"What foods did you like to eat?"

The Outsider smiles wryly, "I wouldn't know, dear one." He tilts his head, a low hum noise in the back of his throat. "I was a street urchin. I didn't know the luxuries of food.”

“But you,” The deity waves a hand, gesturing towards the long dinner table, plates lining the middle, stacked high with warm food, soft desserts, cold ice cream treats, and overflowing with wine and whiskey, “you experienced quite the party today, didn’t you?”

Corvo looks out over the table. It is an exact replica of the setup from the banquet, down to the detail in the food. He touches the edge of the table, feels the textured lace tablecloth over cool polished maplewood beneath his fingers. He can smell the food too, rich and decadent. It is strange to look at to a backdrop to the overcast blue-gray of the Void. He wonders if eating in dreams and the Void carries with it different tastes and sensations, the taste of sea salt and the smell of the ocean air like the Outsider, or if it is indistinguishable from reality.

"The food is always good and you are happy neither you nor Emily have to go hungry again. But you would much rather have a quiet dinner, wouldn’t you? A father-daughter dinner, simple, quiet, non-intrusive. You care not for the pleasantries, the obsequious nobles, the ingratiating behavior of the masses at the banquets.”

The Outsider floats down until his feet touch the ground. His outfit changes, a swirl of Void magic and black mist, the briefest flash of bare white skin. Corvo looks away at the sight, feels a flush underneath his collar at the soft chuckle from the god. When he turns to look back at him, the Outsider is dressed in regal looking clothing, sharply tailored to fit the sleek lines of his body, bold colors, and crisp design. He adjusts his cufflinks, smiling just barely up at Corvo.

"It suits you," Corvo says slowly, stepping forward.

"And everything suits you," the Outsider replies, something fond just at the edges of his voice. He steps closer. "Dear Corvo, I know there is _one_ thing you enjoy about banquets."

The whale god holds his hand out, palm facing down. He keeps his other hand tucked primly behind his back. He tilts his head, oil black eyes glimmering with something not unlike starlight.

"Dance with me," he says next. He smiles, flashing his sharp teeth. "I warn you though, we're in my domain. The Void provides fickle footing. I look forward to how you navigate this."

Corvo takes his hand.

He slides his hand under the Outsider's, clasping his fingers gently over the Outsider's and the god squeezes back, firm, almost painful. He recalls when he had once seen the Outsider crush a stone in his hand into dust, like it was nothing to him. He lets the deity pull him forward, leading the dance as Corvo finds his footing in the constantly shifting terrain.

Corvo assumes that after their last talk about the Outsider’s lingering uncertainty with swimming, the Outsider does not want him to forget that he is a god— strong, unbreakable, unmovable, and full of danger like the sea, unknowable horrors in its depths. He has never doubted this.

The Outsider hums as they sweep across the floor, a mismatch of uneven rock and slate. He seems pleased.

Corvo, meanwhile, is distracted by the press of the body against his own. They are chest to chest, almost hip to hip. The Outsider's body is firm, solid, like he is carved from marble. He looks like he could be, certainly, Corvo thinks to himself. He turns his gaze up to the Outsider, traces his eyes over the lines of his sharp cheekbones, the sculpted slants of his jaw, his straight nose. The Outsider smirks, a corner of his mouth twitching up, and Corvo clears his throat and looks away for a brief moment. He is a fool, this he knows, but he gathers his courage to speak.

"Dance with me," Corvo says quietly, leaning forward. They're still chest to chest, barely any space between them. When Corvo breathes deep, he presses even closer to him. He impulsively continues, talking quickly, "At the next banquet. Let them see you. I want them to. I want you to."

"They already think you a heretic, dearest," the Outsider breathes against his ear, voice betraying nothing. "Do you wish to confirm their suspicions?"

They've stopped dancing, instead swaying side to side slowly. There is no music but the low, strange hum that is always present in the Void serves them just as well. He leans his weight firmer against him. His lips don't quite graze Corvo's skin, but there's a tingling coldness there, even though the god does not draw breath. Corvo wonders if the Outsider can feel his heart beating against his marble chest, through the layers of finely tailored clothing, now barely rumpled with evidence of their dance.

"I am not a heretic," he murmurs. "This, you already know."

"No," the Outsider agrees, "You're something far worse."

 

~*~

 

"Father," Emily says, leaning against his desk. She looks very disapproving with her furrowed brow and downward curved mouth, but she is still his daughter, so to him she merely looks endearing rather than imposing.

"Yes, Emily?" He turns to her, smiling.

"You work all day," she complains, folding her arms across her chest. "I demand we go out on a picnic."

"Is that an order from Her Royal Highness?" he teases.

She huffs. "If I have to order you to spend time with me, you wouldn't be a very good dad, would you?"

Ah.

She's exercising the biting wit she got from her mother again. Corvo feels as though he's been stabbed right through the heart. She seems to realize because she looks slightly apologetic after the comment leaves her lips. She rests her small hand on his arm, squeezing lightly.

"Really, Father," she pouts, cheeks puffing out. She puts on her best puppy eyes. They always work on him. "I'm sorry for being mean, but we have not had time to spend together."

"I know."

They make plans for an outing later that week. They will go out for the whole day, traveling around so that Emily may view for herself how Dunwall has begun to pick itself off the ground. Then Emily insisted that they go out to the hills on the outskirts of Dunwall proper to have their picnic. It is an indulgence by technical standards, but she is still young and she deserves the break. He wishes sometimes she could have had a normal life, ascended to the throne when she was much older.

He kisses the back of her hand, squeezing it in his own. Emily looks up, surprised by the affectionate gesture. When he smiles, she returns it, hugging him tightly and telling him she's looking forward to their well-deserved father-daughter picnic.

 

~*~

 

The day of the picnic they set out early in the morning to roam through the quiet streets of Dunwall. There's less filth now. The plague houses that were previously boarded up have been cleaned out. Dead bodies have been removed and buried properly rather than tossed into the ocean. The proper detoxification process of the city requires painstaking meticulousness, but they've been able to make it work. Sokolov and Piero work tirelessly to provide the correct instructions to house cleaners. The city is starting to look alive again. It will be a long time before every problem is fixed— the homelessness, the gangs, the poor education system. But that will come with time. Emily is sure progress will occur, and he's equally as inclined to put his faith in the city.

It does indeed lift Emily's spirits to see the people of Dunwall, kinder, healthy, and more excited about life. She talks to many of the citizens excitedly. Those who have had the privilege of seeing her at her coronation or her visage in Sokolov's paintings recognize her. The other half are clueless, thinking her merely the daughter of a well-to-do aristocrat. Corvo prefers it that way, that most don't know the Empress is out on an excursion. He's more than confident he can take care of any stragglers with weird ideas, but it does help to ease his worries that there are many who don't even know the value of the little girl before them.

Eventually, Emily gets tired of talking to strangers, her curiosity sated for the time being. She does seem happier to see her people happy and that already makes this excursion worth it. All tuckered out, he lets her nap by his side in a horse carriage as they make the trek out to the outskirts of Dunwall. He pays the coachman and thanks him for his work. He asks the man to return here in the evening to pick them up and the man nods eagerly, likely relieved to know he'll have more money in his pockets to bring home to his family.

Corvo picks up Emily in his arms and cradles her as he hangs their picnic basket off of his wrist. He makes it halfway up the hill before Emily finally stirs against his chest.

"Oh?" she mumbles, rubbing at her eyes. "Are we on the hills now?"

"Yes. From here, you'll be able to look out at the whole city."

They set up their picnic spot together, Emily draping out the picnic blanket and setting up a perimeter of rocks to "keep the ants out”. She commands him to set up their plates and get the food out and Corvo smiles to himself as he does what he’s told carefully. Emily finishes setting up her rock line on the picnic blanket and crawls towards the food Corvo’s set out. She picks up a plate but then suddenly seems transfixed by something she sees behind him.

“What is it?”

Emily points to an area where the grass is overgrown behind him, sprinkled with flowers. She makes to move, but he grabs her arm, shaking his head as he smiles.

"I know you want to play with the flowers, but you should eat first or your hands will be dirty when you come back."

Emily huffs and she puffs, but he convinces her to stay. They settle down together and eat slowly, talking quietly about the weather and how it's starting to get warmer as spring creeps closer. Emily conspiratorially gossips about the affairs of the aristocrats, things she's heard whispered among the servants and things she's noticed in court. She is a very bright child, keen eyes, sharp mind, a precocious ruler of an age. She complains to him about how Callista and Sokolov are keeping her indoors too much, making her read and learn to make up for lost time while she was at The Golden Cat. After they finish eating, Emily brushes her hands off haphazardly and runs to the meadow. She returns with a large clump of plucked flowers in her hands.

Corvo continues eating quietly as he watches Emily start to weave the flowers and stems together to make a crown. There's an easy silence between them.

"You seem happier lately," Emily says conversationally. She looks up for a moment from the crown to meet his eyes before she looks back down. "It's good to see."

"Because you're safe."

"No." She shakes her head. She wrinkles her nose, thinking. She makes some gestures with one hand as she struggles to verbalize her thoughts. "It's different. Like the kind of happy you were with Mother. When you thought I couldn't see."

Corvo flushes a little at that, feeling the tips of his ears warm. "What makes you say that?"

"You don't look so grumpy all the time," she says, rolling her eyes as though it were obvious. She sets the flower crown down in her lap and folds her arms across her chest. She scrunches her face up in a frown. "When we were at the Hound Pits Pub, you looked like this when you weren't around me!" She pauses and then reaches over and pats his arm, suddenly serious. "But I know that's because you had a lot to worry about. But really! Don't think I don't notice. You're especially happy in the mornings now, unlike before."

Corvo knows the reason why of course. He wakes in the morning more often with extra energy the Outsider has gifted him with as a recompense for spending time with him. It is a useful boon, but really, he is admittedly content merely spending time with the deity. The Outsider will never stop talking in enigmatic ways, but what he's trying to say or imply no longer escapes Corvo's understanding. He enjoys the Outsider's company and attention and dare he suggest, the god's affection for him. There is a push and pull between them that he dares not question. The development of that... only the future will tell. The god has not answered him with regards to Corvo’s impulsive invitation to dance, but Corvo does not think the Outsider is upset with him. He would not have visited as often as he does since if he was.

"I've been having good dreams," Corvo offers in explanation.

Emily raises an eyebrow at him before rolling her eyes again and turning her attention back to the flower crown. She hands him a clump of flowers and tells him to pay attention. She wants him to make one for her because she's making one for him right now.

"This way, we can crown each other," she says very matter of factly.

Corvo manages to make the crown. The flowers are a little rumpled, but the crown holds together so Emily is happy. She stands up and walks over to him, having him kneel on one knee in front of her as she crowns him.

"I crown you the official Royal Lord Protector again," Emily exclaims cheerfully. "By my royal decree, you have to go on a picnic every week with me!"

He places his less put together but still acceptable flower crown on her head, sighing and taking her hand when she drags him to run around the meadows with her. The sun is setting by the time Emily tires out. She falls asleep atop the picnic blanket, her flower crown clutched in her hand. He strokes her hair as he looks out at the sunset, painting the gray of Dunwall in orange and red lights.

"Hello, dear Corvo."

Corvo tenses at the voice behind him reflexively, even though he recognizes it. He doesn't get to turn around before he hears the footsteps approaching, the soft sound of grass underfoot as the Outsider comes closer. He stops next to Corvo's side, feet next to the perimeter of rocks on the picnic blanket. He's dressed in a long dark coat with the ends dancing around his knees. He smiles at Corvo with his hands in his pockets.

"What a beautiful evening, isn't it, beloved?” The Outsider keeps his voice soft, presumably to not wake the sleeping Empress. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, inhaling deeply like he had at the ocean in Corvo's dream. "The full brunt of spring will arrive soon, bringing with it fresh winds, blooming potential, and of course, dreadful allergies. A mixed bag of gifts and otherwise.”

Corvo cannot help the fond smile he is sure is spreading across his lips. "Hello. You insist on making an entrance."

The Outsider tilts his head at him, also smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "And you, sweet one, are a flatterer. You've had 'good dreams', have you?" he asks sweetly, looking smug.

Corvo clears his throat, looking away. "I cannot tell my daughter the truth for her safety, but I do not lie either."

A pause before Corvo hears the Outsider step closer and crouch down so he's nearly eye level with him. His expression is unreadable as he reaches over towards him.

"Your dearest daughter Empress Emily," he says softly. He touches the flower crown atop Corvo's head, fingers brushing lightly against the petals, "is a sweet soul. She is so gifted and so bright; her eyes are wide open."

There's a moment of silence between them before the whale god stands back up. He sticks one hand in his coat pocket, he offers the other one, fingers outstretched. "Come, dear Corvo. Will you walk with me for a short while? Nowhere far," he assures, eyes on Emily's quiet sleeping form, "I would not want you to feel uneasy. Your daughter is in no harm."

Corvo looks down at Emily and cards his fingers gently through her now shoulder length hair. He stands up slowly, careful not to disturb her. He joins the Outsider on the grass and the god offers the barest smile as he puts his hand back into his pockets and starts walking. Corvo follows.

The sky is starting deepen darker in color. The orange red of the sunset bleeds out into the navy blue of the night sky, with stars starting to twinkle visibly. The clouds are thin tonight, spread out, allowing a breathtaking view of the assorted constellations. A quiet breeze ruffles through the grass and flowers of the hill. The city is still tonight as candles start to go out in the windows of resilient stone gray Dunwall. Corvo admires the sights, reveling in the visage of a healing city.

"I thought it unfair I am always pulling you into my domain," the Outsider offers by way of explanation. He is still walking next to Corvo, so close their shoulders almost brush on every other step. "So I thought to even the score and visit you here, in reality. And of course, I have not forgotten your request.” He looks over at Corvo with something fond in his eyes. “But your next banquet is months away. And I am not dreadfully patient, as you know.”

Corvo’s breath hitches. “Would you truly show yourself at the banquet?”

The Outsider smiles, enigmatic. “The Royal Protector does need a dancing partner befitting of his station.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Until then, we are stuck biding time, my dear."

“Is that the only reason you’ve come tonight?"

"For what other reason have I always visited you, dear Corvo?" The Outsider seems offended by his question, casting him a sidelong glance. "I visit to quell my boredom. If you wish to flatter yourself as humans are wont to, you might say I enjoy your company." His eyes twinkle as he says his next words in a low drawl, "You could even say I find you _stimulating_.”

“You enjoy being inappropriate," Corvo manages to accuse after a few seconds. His mouth is dry and when he swallows, the Outsider watches the way his Adam's Apple bobs.

“Yes,” the Outsider readily admits after a moment, turning to him with a wicked smile curling his lips. “Unfortunately, there are no eyes here to witness us. Again, it will have to wait until the banquet. A shame, because I do so love a scandal. The Royal Protector out at night on an adventure with his daughter and a handsome young man no one can place.” He stops walking to flourish his hands, smiling now with his razor sharp teeth. “Oh, how the aristocracy would gossip. It is all they know how to do after all."

"I want them to gossip," Corvo says, impulsive, fierce.

The Outsider looks towards him, surprised. His gaze softens. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, beloved. Don't let anyone else take it."

Corvo opens his mouth to ask him what he means, but the Outsider presses a finger to his lips. His skin is cold against Corvo's mouth.

"Shhh. Please, dear Corvo," the Outsider says quietly, seeming melancholic all of a sudden. "No more questions. Just walk with me for awhile longer." He withdraws his finger and tucks his hand back into his pockets, starting to walk again.

Corvo can do little more than follow.

Eventually, the Outsider stops at the top of the hill, where the best vantage point over the city is. Corvo stops by his side and looks over at him.

His profile is beautifully cut, a long and straight Greek nose and sharp, gaunt cheekbones. His mouth is thin and pretty, a dull pink contrast to his stark milk white skin. His eyelashes are long and feathery, flaring when he blinks slowly, as if he has to remember to do so. Corvo watches as the god blinks suddenly after a long period of time, the action stuttery, unnatural.

"I do have to remember to blink," the Outsider says, smiling. He keeps his gaze on the horizon. "I know so much how it unsettles people that I normally don't. There are so many minor differences between me and humankind, and it is a great pity those little differences scare them. I don't blink, I don't breathe, and my heart is still and my blood... there is none." He turns to look at Corvo, his smile strange and almost wistful. "You should fear me, Corvo, rather than continuing to entertain me like this."

"You are not an unkind god," Corvo says softly. He does not know what possesses the god to reveal weakness to him, a quiet admittance of a desire for validation. He is a widely worshipped god after all. "What have I to fear?"

The Outsider looks away. "Corvo, dear, I am not an unkind god, but I am not a kind one either. I, the hollow doll, keeper of the Void." His shoulders tense beneath the coat and there's the barest hint of frustration in his voice when he speaks next, "I did not have to bestow my powers upon the likes of Daud and Vera Moray. Yet, I did, and in doing so, caused endless suffering for many souls."

Corvo does not know what to say. He has been in contact with the Outsider now for a little over six months and the god has always operated in fickle, mysterious ways. Corvo has slowly pieced together his speech habits, his erratic behaviors, to gain some semblance of understanding of the Outsider. But the deity has never been openly transparent like this before.

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly, stepping closer. He does not dare to touch the Outsider right now, but moving closer seems to ease the tension in his frame just a fraction. "Talk to me."

The Outsider brings a hand up to cover his mouth. "Corvo," he whispers behind his fingers, brow suddenly wrinkling in a frown. "You will most certainly be my ruin."

"What do you mean?" Corvo asks patiently. His heart is thudding in his chest, and he has so many questions. The greatest one of all is if the Outsider will cease his visits, if he will cease in the strange affections he has given Corvo.

The Outsider drops his hand from his mouth, looking at him. He closes his eyes, eyelashes feathering against the top of his cheeks. His body starts to ripple, spikes of smoke wavering off his body in uneven, stop-start waves. His skin shifts between translucent and opaque and back and back again. The Void bleeds through around him, glimpses of whales swimming in blue-black ocean, the faithful at his purple wreathed shrines, and the dizzying sounds of bonecharms. When the Outsider speaks, it is a language that Corvo has never heard before and does not recognize. He says a stream of words, a litany, faster, picking up speed. He breathes deep suddenly and when he opens his eyes again, there are stars in them, constellations.

"In worlds you've never known," the Outsider says quietly, "there was Perseus and Andromeda. Altair and Vega."

"Tell me what's going on," Corvo almost begs, finally reaching for him, hand curling up to his face. He finds that he cannot move suddenly.

The Outsider laughs, a soft, humorless sound. "Corvo, beloved, dear Corvo, crowned in the frail flowers of this meadow," he breathes, cupping his face in his hands. His skin is still cold. "You continue to ask why. This time, there is a why, an answer to be given. But it is too dangerous for your ears."

Corvo wants to say something, but his voice is gone as well.

"Even now, you are a fool," the Outsider murmurs, pulling away, letting his fingers trail along Corvo's jaw. He looks back at Corvo, sticking his hands back into his pockets. His body starts to fade, translucent, leaving behind glimpses of the light blue-gray of a still, quiet, empty Void and black smoke and light. "Good night, dear Corvo. Go back to your daughter for now. I'll visit you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated <3  
> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	3. an illness of the heart, a ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider is a fool and a ghost, and time passes them both by.

Despite the Outsider's promise to visit again, it has been a long time since he has graced Corvo with his presence whether in real life or in Corvo's dreams. He thinks back to that night on the hill, the two of them standing twenty or so feet away from a sleeping Emily in the spring breeze. He wonders what went wrong still. After the god disappeared, Corvo could move and talk again. He was left standing there, looking for answers. His Mark had pulsed quietly, but offered him no response. He ended up cleaning up the picnic spot and carrying Emily back to the horse carriage, telling her a bedtime story when she blearily woke up on the ride back to the castle.

He wonders if he will ever see the Outsider again, or if he has somehow committed such a grave offense by asking questions that the god has abandoned him, despite his last promise to visit again. Perhaps he will not see him until the banquet. The Outsider does not make his intentions known.

But as if to answer his silent question, the god chooses that night to appear to him again.

"Corvo, dear, sweet Corvo," the Outsider croons, skin shifting sheer and then solid again. "It's been some time."

Corvo swings his legs to step out of bed, taking in the familiar sight of the blue-gray Void. The god waits for him patiently, floating a good distance away, languid, a lazy, smug smile on the corners of his lips. It seems the Outsider is not displeased, at the least. It should come as no surprise to him that the god behaves in ways that are still enigmatic and fickle to Corvo, but after the last time they parted, something about tonight's encounter feels odd. Something curls heavy at the bottom of his stomach, a churning anxiety. Corvo clenches and unclenches his hands and watches the Outsider carefully as he steps closer.

"Hello."

The Outsider smiles wider, flashing teeth. He lowers himself to the ground and waves his hand, the scenery behind him changing in the blink of an eye. He is now standing in front of a majestic shrine, grandiose, borderline florid in its design. Normally constructed on a small wooden table, this shrine is instead made of marble, and the accents are a different carved white material— whalebone, he realizes, belatedly. The shrine is outlined in violet cloth, the rich dark tones of the fabric adorned with gold patterns. The fabric flaps lazily in the air, despite the lack of a breeze. The Outsider leans his hips against the shrine, his dark clothes a contrast to the white marble of the table. He smiles, folding his arms across his chest.

"This is my favorite shrine," the Outsider drawls. He reaches down and picks up the rune on the table. He turns it around in his hand, and the mark carved into it glows bright. "You would think something so lavish was surely built by a noble, perhaps an entrepreneur of some sort. Certainly, you think it must've been someone with a lot of money.” He sets the rune back down and curls his fingers along the edge of the table, smiling at Corvo.

"But the devoted find a way to make things happen."

The Outsider turns his gaze to the violet fabric adorning the shrine and traces his fingers over the gold patterning.

Corvo shifts on his feet. "What do you want from me?" he asks. He is suddenly very, very tired. He still has so many questions. The Outsider feels distant and playful instead of fond and intimate like he used to be.

"This shrine is my favorite, as I have said," the Outsider smiles, a flash of brilliant white, razor sharp teeth. He shifts to sit properly on the shrine, crossing his legs and propping a hand on the surface behind him. He raises his other hand up, curling a finger.

"Come, dear Corvo, I've a request for you."

He crooks his finger and his clothes vaporize into dark mist, the smoke curling around his pale white skin.

"Ravish me on this shrine."

Corvo's mouth goes dry. He opens his mouth uselessly, and from the shrine, the Outsider looks horribly smug at the reaction he's managed to elicit from him. The Outsider uncrosses his legs and Corvo sucks in a breath and looks away quickly. He can feel the flush rising to his cheeks, warm under his skin as he clenches his fists by his side.

"You know of my... _other_ dreams," he says faintly, accusatory.

The Outsider hums. "You're not the first man to desire me."

"So there have been men before me who've had you," Corvo says before he can think it through. He forces himself to look up to the Outsider, keeping his gaze on his face instead of letting it wander over his bare translucent white skin, "and I will not be the last to desire you and touch you."

The Outsider makes a noise, something feral, like a growl, but distorted by static. He laughs, quiet, amused, black eyes glimmering with white starlights inside of them. "You're jealous," he says, and he isn't angry like Corvo feared he would be. He sounds pleased. “As always, you're full of surprises, Corvo. I had not thought you a selfish, possessive man considering all you've done for the Empire, for your daughter, for the sake of others."

Corvo clenches his fist tighter. He is not a drowning man, but he wants to breathe the Outsider in so desperately.

He wants to put his hands on him, hold him close and love him. He does not know if it is merely a symptom of being in the god's presence, if the god seduces by nature. He fears it more that his heart is simply weak for the way the Outsider's mouth curls or the crow's feet that appear in his skin when he smiles, just barely, a private thing for only Corvo to see.

"Corvo," the Outsider says, and his voice is less teasing, something barely warm in it. "I seldom hold interest in humans. You, dear Corvo, you're special. More so than I can put into words." He smiles just barely, crossing his legs again. "Many men have worshipped the idea of my body. Dreams, fantasies. None have touched the real thing." He holds his hand out, crossing his legs again, "I left you hanging last time, Corvo, on that hill, in the cold night air. But now, I understand. Come, favorite. Take me to bed."

Corvo wants to ask if he's joking, but he already knows he's not. He swallows thickly, his Adam's Apple bobbing. He unclenches his hands as he paces forward slowly, towards the shrine. The Outsider holds his gaze, black eyes observing him almost hungrily, watching as he approaches. Corvo stops in front of the shrine, still a few feet from him. He closes his eyes and keeps them closed as he takes a deep breath.

"I cannot sleep with you."

There's no immediate response for a few seconds before he feels the Outsider press his fingers to his Adam's Apple, gentle. His fingers are cool, but not cold when they touch him.

"There's no need to hold back, dear one," the Outsider says softly, fingers sliding over to press against his pulse, where he can no doubt feel how Corvo's heart betrays him. "Corvo, you desire me, I know you do. This is not an offering I am making in jest."

"I cannot sleep with you," Corvo repeats. He opens his eyes, keeps it on the Outsider's face as he reaches up and takes his hand in his own. "I'm sorry. I do want you, more than you know, I think. But I do not feel comfortable taking you to bed." He squeezes the Outsider's fingers in his hand, apologetic. "I'm not looking for something that is only physical. You're curious, and this is an experiment, but I am not your guinea pig. I’ve waited weeks for you, but I did not desire it to be like this.” He lets go of the Outsider’s hand.

The Outsider's brow is furrowed, mouth twisting downwards in confusion and frustration.

"You continue to surprise me, Corvo."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider does not visit him again.

His dreams of the Outsider had been weekly, sometimes every other week. It has been this way other than the longer than normal gap between their talk on the hill and the Outsider's... invitation to bed. The whale god used to come to him and they would discuss Corvo's day, the tiresome nature of politics, the strange happenings in the lonely corners in Dunwall, and whatever else struck the Outsider's fancy or interest at the time. Corvo never leaves his dreams feeling tired— he supposes that is the Outsider's small reparation for keeping him company. He gives Corvo the vim of restful, deep sleep, leaving him feeling refreshed when he opens his eyes in the morning.

Now, it has been two years since the Outsider has last visited.

He turned the god down when he offered his body. It wasn't a decision he regrets for his own comfort and self-respect. He is not a man of hedonistic pleasures, one-night stands, indolent mornings in bed, tangled with a stranger who will leave and never cross paths with him again. The Outsider is no stranger, but the god was only curious about sex and sought to try it with his most trusted Marked. Corvo doesn't regret saying no.

But when the Outsider left him that day, it felt as though he had deeply wounded the god.

Corvo closes his eyes and shakes his head. It doesn't matter anymore. The Mark still responds when he calls upon its power, still resonates with the same powerful, intimate energy of the Outsider beneath his wrappings and gloves.

"Father, are you listening?"

Corvo jolts, looks down to see Emily frowning up at him from where she's sitting. He clears his throat before smiling down at her. "No, I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind. Tell me again."

Emily looks upset, but not because he's missed what she said. She looks down at the storybook on the table for a moment before she turns her gaze back up at him.

"Be honest with me, Father. You've been distracted lately. Are you alright?" she asks finally, words picked carefully. She is twelve now, soon to be thirteen, and has even less time for Corvo’s mumbled excuses, but she is still kind to him, sensitive to when there's more going on than just sleep deprivation or stress.

"It's nothing," he insists, but he knows that it will not work on her anymore— she is too smart. She must be. She is the ruler of an entire empire. She must be brilliant and cunning and just the right amount of kind and cruel. It is a lot to ask of a small twelve year old girl, but she manages it all the same.

"Is this about the black-eyed man?"

Corvo flinches, startled. His reaction betrays him and Emily frowns, brow pinched in concern.

"He came to me," she says after a moment, looking up at him and holding his gaze. "He's only visited me a few times. I dreamt of him and he scared me at first. I thought he was a ghost, the one in the tower I told you about.”

Corvo can't imagine why he’d visit Emily. It is not as though she could've done anything during the Rat Plague Years. And he doubts he intended merely to spook her.

Emily continues talking, “The first time I didn't see him, but I heard his voice telling me at The Golden Cat that you would come soon. And then he visited in the tower to say things would turn out alright. He knew it would. When the Loyalists kidnapped me, he said they would lock me in a room, but you would find me again. And then he came six months ago in a dream to ask me if you were... well.”

"Did you tell anyone else this?" Corvo asks, sudden panic rising in him.

While he’s grateful the Outsider was trying to comfort Emily during a difficult time, it's dangerous for her to have had contact with him. If she's mentioned this to anyone else… some might pass it off as a young child's strange dreams, but others— they would know it was the Outsider.

"No." Emily smiles, but it looks a little wistful. "He never said, but he's that one the Abbey fears, right? But I know he helps you."

He's at a loss for words. Finally, he says, "I'm sorry to have worried you."

"Are you fighting with him?"

"You don't need to worry about it. It's okay,” he says gently, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it.

Emily reaches up and puts her hand over his, squeezing it back. There’s a pause as she looks away, as if she’s debating whether or not to say something. She looks back at him, mouth turned down. “You should talk to him again. You’re happy, but it's not the same as before," she says quietly, "It's a muted kind of happiness. You weren’t the same after mother died, but he made you happy again.”

Corvo flinches, thinks of Jessamine’s long hair tangled in his fingers, thinks of the smell of her soft rose perfume on the skin of her bare neck, thinks of her fingers twined with his own in private. He thinks also of black otter eyes, of fluffy black hair, marble cold skin, and the smell of sea salt and burning whale oil filling his lungs when he wakes up next to the Outsider's slim frame, things only his dreams have given him.

He clenches his other hand by his side, and Emily falls quiet, the look in her eyes downcast and apologetic. She gets up from her seat and moves to hug him, arms squeezing tight around his waist, and he hugs her back.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
He wakes the next morning to a slight chill in the air, even though it is summer and his windows are closed. He touches his Adam's Apple reflexively, and the skin there is cool to the touch. He looks down at his Marked hand before closing his eyes and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss against the god's brand on his flesh. The Mark warms under his mouth and flares bright with energy before it returns to normal.

Corvo doesn't know what it all means. That the Outsider hasn't lost interest in him? That he still cares about his wellbeing, even if he won't show his face anymore? He visited last night. But the only traces left behind were a cold touch to his skin and a crisp cool air that lingers in the room, only to be quickly dissipated by Corvo's body heat.

Corvo looks to his Mark, as though it can answer him, but the energy inside of it has quelled.

He suddenly feels frustrated, throwing his legs out of the bed.

Life will go on whether the Outsider decides to visit him again or not.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Life does go on.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Now, it's been twelve years in total since Emily has been restored to the throne. She is twenty-two and has grown to be as beautiful as her mother. She has Jessamine's cheekbones and strong, proud nose. She jokes with him that she's gotten her sharp carved jaw and severe mouth from him. She tells him she got her mother's beauty, his handsomeness, and both of their wisdom and fiery temperament and passionate love for the Isles.

"Wyman and I would've had beautiful kids," Emily says conversationally.

Corvo feels his mouth tighten in a severe line. It's not that he disapproves of Wyman— the complete opposite, actually. He is immensely fond of the noble— Wyman is sharp-witted and vicious and beautiful, a perfect match for Emily. It just feels odd to hear his daughter joking about marriage and children. She is twenty two, but she still feels so young to him. He does not want to part with her, even if it is to walk her down the aisle in a few years to Wyman.

"Will you ever marry, Father?"

He startles out of his reverie. Her question is serious, and her furrowed brow betrays how much she cares about his answer. Corvo looks away.

"There is no one else."

"Besides Mother?" she asks, and then sharper, but softer, "Or besides  _him_?"

Corvo's arms are tucked behind his back and he tightens his hands into fists where she can't see. "Emily."

" _Father_."

"Both," he answers, and it's the most honest he's been about the topic in a very, very long time.

Emily falls silent. Her brow is furrowed as she contemplates his answer before she raises her head, gaze piercing. "If he ever returns to you, he had best watch himself," she says, fierce, protective.

"You should go now," Corvo says instead, smiling a little, "Don't keep Wyman waiting."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Corvo retires to his room and sees a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	4. the leviathan with a decade between us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the god wanted to be human and grow a heart and fall in love.

Corvo at least has the presence of mind to shut the door behind him, locking it with a quick turn of his fingers behind his back as he keeps his gaze locked on the trespasser. The air in the room feels a little colder and smells like the fresh sea breeze, just like how he remembers it would. The Outsider brings with him the feeling of the sea, vast, deep, unyielding, and dangerous, every time he uses the Void to pierce through reality’s veil.

The Outsider is floating in his room, feet a few inches off the ground. His gaze is familiar and piercing, oil black eyes glimmering as they look over Corvo. “You have gray in your hair now,” he says, and there’s no surprise in his tone. Instead, there is something awkward there, the barest warm undertone to his voice. He waves his hand, a nonsensical gesture. “Age has treated you… kindly.”

Corvo thinks about how he’s started growing out his stubble, how he’s been keeping his hair cleaner cut now that he has time to worry about such things as his appearance. Emily and Callista fuss incessantly over him. He wonders if any of it is attractive to the Outsider.

“Why are you here?” he asks evenly.

The Outsider pauses, deliberating. He tucks his hands behind his back as he floats to the side, seemingly restless. “Am I not allowed to visit one of my beloved Marked?”

“You say that whenever is convenient."

The Outsider falters, caught in his excuse. He turns to glare at Corvo before deflating slightly, mouth twisted downwards, expression troubled. "You always have to be so difficult, don't you?"

"I'm not the one who left for twelve years," Corvo says before he can bite his tongue.

The Outsider's expression pinches again and he looks away, looking, of all things, embarrassed. "You turned me down. I did not know what to do with myself."

Corvo is taken aback with his honesty, an admission borderline vulnerable in what it reveals about their relationship, about the offer he made so many years ago. "You did not have to leave," he says softly. "I would not have been unkind."

"Yes, well," the Outsider waves his hand again, the gesture frustrated this time. “You were clearly displeased about my offer at the time. That aside, I have a poor sense of human time. And I had a lot to think about."

"Talk to me," Corvo says, stepping slowly closer to him. The distance between them has never felt so short before.

The Outsider lets his feet touch the ground, but his arms are still folded across his chest and he holds his head high, posturing defensively. "I found myself... wanting,” he admits, something barely warm in his voice, "in ways that are foreign to me. I am no stranger to love or lust, having been the object of many of my Marked's affections over the past four thousand years."

"But I am different?" Corvo feels his Mark burn under his skin, pulsing with energy. He does not want to be presumptuous.

"Frustratingly so," the Outsider mutters, “I am not… a fool to how you desired me,” he continues quietly, his words sure, but his voice wavering just slightly. “You grew fond of me, and I, you. And it was new to me because you desire me, but not as others have. Not simply a craving for my flesh… but I have come to realize, you wish for closeness— intimacy. You want to hold my hand and wake next to me.”

Corvo feels his cheeks burn, but he holds his gaze. “Do not tease me."

“I am not  _teasing_ , Corvo,” the Outsider snaps at him, impatient, frustrated. “I mean to say I am not used to people desiring me as you do... as a _lover_. But I—“ The Outsider twists his mouth, “I am not angry with you. I have punished others for less than desiring me.”

"Then tell me what this visit is really about," Corvo says quietly. His heart is thudding in his chest and his hands are clammy. He wants to hear the Outsider admit that he wants Corvo too, not merely as a convenient body, but something more.

"I told you," the Outsider says, voice soft, private, just for Corvo's ears. "I found myself wanting. On the hill that night, I came face to face with a crisis, a realization that I might care for you in the same way. I convinced myself it was merely a desire to bed you. And you…,” the Outsider looks away, “You rejected my offer, not wanting only something physical. So I puzzled over this problem more and I came to realize that I did not think it such an... unpleasant thought after all. What you wanted. Waking up next to you. Being your lover and not just your bedmate."

"And so, you had to brood about this newfound realization for over a decade?" Corvo cannot help but tease him, but his voice is fond, because he is fond, unbelievably so as he gazes upon the familiar lines of the Outsider's face.

The Outsider huffs, glaring at him. "Don't test me, beloved. Perhaps I'll brood now for twenty years, only to return when you are old and gray."

"I am already old," Corvo says gently, reaching out slowly to press a hand to the Outsider's waist. "You will no longer desire me in a few years."

The Outsider's gaze softens. "Don't be coy, Corvo." He drops his arms from his chest, stepping closer until they are chest to chest. "Do not pretend as though you are unaware of how the nobility talk about you, how they gossip amongst themselves as to who will be so lucky as to bed you. They find your gruff and laconic personality engaging; they think you are playing hard to get, so they desire you even more."

"And you?"

The Outsider huffs. He leans close before Corvo can say anything, his breath cool against Corvo's mouth. "What do you think, dearest?"

Corvo tries to find words, to gather his thoughts. His head is spinning, every time he breathes, he inhales the scent of the ocean. “You wish to be my lover."

“You’ll have to court me first,” the Outsider murmurs. "We’ll see where it goes from there. But my concession that I am… interested in what you have to offer should flatter you enough.” The Outsider reaches up, strokes his fingers through Corvo's bangs, curling through his graying fringe. “And they, the nobility, they will know. For you? I can do so many things. The Void is vast and deep and I can draw so very much power from its wells." His skin shifts translucent again, revealing veins and bones. He smiles, sharp teeth, a reminder. "So tell me, what do you desire?"

“I am not a heretic,” Corvo says finally, feeling a smile tug at his lips.

The Outsider stares at him, surprised, before he brings a hand up to his mouth, as if to stifle his laughter. “No," he agrees, "You're something far worse."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
"Tethys Lotan," the Outsider introduces himself with a theatrical bow. “You will make me your new Royal Spymaster."

Emily squints at him over her teacup before looking pointedly at Corvo. He is weak for the Outsider. There is not much more he can say. She seems to know, so she turns her attention to the god before her. She is unimpressed, crossing her legs as she sips at her tea. He is more proud of her than he knows how to put into words.

“And please, inform me, specter, how you expect to keep my ever suspicious court from asking questions. Our new Spymaster looks like the Outsider. Someone no one has heard of has been promoted to such a prestigious position out of nowhere."

“You’d be surprised, my Empress,” the Outsider says, smiling. He folds his arms behind his back. “Not many people dare to question your decisions. And if your father stands by it, very few will speak up. Besides, I have methods to handle my appearance so as not to arouse suspicion. Some mind games to play."

"Then I assume your position is in title only."

"No." The Outsider smiles, sharp teeth. "While your father is excellent at his job and so very thorough, I will be able to impart some new insights even Corvo cannot provide."

Emily deliberates, clearly not expecting the Outsider to be so sincere. Then she smiles, tilting her head at him. Her voice even and warning when she speaks next, "Then you had best not disappoint, ghost. My father leaves behind great shoes to be filled."

The Outsider bows again theatrically, flourishing his hands. "Of course. I await your official announcement of my position. In the meantime, I think I'll decorate," he says dryly, a half smile on his lips. He clicks his tongue, "Yes. I'll put some life back into Hiram Burrows' former dreary office."

He excuses himself and departs in a whirlwind of fluttering clothing and sharp, precise footsteps and a cocky and refined gait. The door shuts behind him. Emily sips at her tea with her eyes closed.

"I have questions," she says around the rim of her cup, "but I think it best I do not ask them."

Corvo relaxes, shoulders dropping and his hands unclenching behind his back. "You are the Empress," he says mildly, trying to disguise his relief, even though he knows she must see through it.

Emily huffs. "That does not mean I will interfere in the affairs of my lovesick father."

Corvo bites the inside of his cheek. He supposes he deserved that comment. He jolts when he feels her hand on his forearm.

"I was not being unkind," she says, voice softer, "And I do not think the ghost dishonest. His intel will be useful."

Corvo deliberates before he sighs. "Let us hope that's the case."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Corvo barely sees the Outsider for the next week or so. He flits around the castle— the servants and guards have already been informed of his presence, though they have not been told anything else. They pass by each other in the hallways. Corvo keeps his eyes averted, and the Outsider always smiles. Corvo himself is busy, inundated with meetings and other political matters.

The Outsider visits once or twice in his room with a plume of smoke, a flash of shark teeth, and the shimmering of pure white bones.

"Just making sure you're alive, dearest, that's all," the Outsider would declare before disappearing again.

Corvo doesn't have the energy or time to think about why the Outsider has grown hot and cold again, fickle in his attention. He had been so open and honest when they talked again for the first time in over a decade, and now he is back to games and strange affections. Corvo devotes himself wholeheartedly to his tasks instead. A week and a half later, Emily reminds him gently that they are going to announce the Outsider, Tethys Lotan, as the new Spymaster. The day of the announcement arrives, and Corvo has still seen neither hide nor hair of the god for at least three days. Emily's nicknames of the Outsider as a ghost and specter make more sense by the day.

Corvo nearly has a heart attack when the Outsider appears. He had promised "some changes to his appearance", but the Outsider looks the same as ever, only in more tight, well-tailored clothing, and with white sclera instead of his normal otter black eyes. His eyes are green, bright, sparkling. He smiles at the Court as he strolls up to Emily's side, no teeth, but wickedness and a threat still evident in the curve of his lips.

Emily's hands tighten the barest fraction on her throne, the only sign that she's anxious. But the nobility don't even bat an eyelash at the Outsider's appearance. There's the usual court murmur of curiosity, but no fearful or angry looks directed at the lithe dark-haired man.

The announcement goes over surprisingly well. Emily introduces the Outsider as an associate from Morley. The nobles know not to look too deeply into anything related to Morley. Wyman's ties to the Empress mean that the nobles don't pry too much, for fear of upsetting Emily.

Emily looks pointedly at him for a comment and Corvo straightens his back and turns his attention to the crowd. "He is a trusted associate. I have worked with him in the past."

" _Intimately_ , one might even say," the Outsider drawls, coy and suggestive.

A murmur goes through the court before Emily clears her throat loudly.

"That will be all. I hope you will put your trust into Lotan, and I pray none of you have secrets that you need to hide from me," she finishes, voice calm and serene.

She smiles and tilts her head, a practiced gesture to look kind and mild. It is a front, and the nobility know as much. The court shifts, unsettled, as they start to talk amongst each other and disperse.

He follows the Outsider as he slips out the other entrance. Emily shoots Corvo a furtive glance, an eyebrow raised in amusement before she turns back to the noble currently seeking an audience with her. Once they're in the hallway alone, he catches the Outsider by the arm, hand near his elbow. The fabric under his fingers is soft, the lines of his finely tailored jacket sharp. The Outsider looks down at him with amused eyes, the barest curve of a smile on his lips.

"Hello, dear one. No need to manhandle me."

"You play games with me," Corvo says, hand tightening just barely on his arm. He crowds closer, and the Outsider merely smiles wider. "Tell me you're serious."

"Corvo," the Outsider says softly, reaching up to slide his other hand under Corvo's jaw, fingers pressing along his beard. His skin is cool still, but a little warmer than Corvo normally recalls. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate this is, favorite?" he breathes, tilting his head up further. "Me, the God of the Void, deigning to grant you this much personal attention and time."

Corvo bites the inside of his mouth. He knows how the Outsider is fond of him, but he knows too how the god enjoys teasing him. His patience is running short. "You said you thought about this. Desired it, even."

"I do," the Outsider admits, his voice just the barest hint warm, "I hold great affection for you, dear Corvo. But you ask for so much. Let me have my fun. You're so uptight." He presses closer to Corvo, fingers sliding from under his jaw to cup along the underside of his neck and ear. "What would those nobles say, if they saw you like this, desiring me? I hope they are jealous."

Corvo pushes him away, frustrated. It's true he knew the Outsider would be difficult and would tease, but he finds he is not in any mood to deal with it. Perhaps it's just the hectic nature of the past week that's wearing on his patience. He turns stiffly on his heel and walks away, feeling the weight of the Outsider's gaze on him.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider unsurprisingly fits into his new role as the Royal Spymaster well. His mild yet shrewd demeanor means people approach him with deference and caution in equal parts. He adjusts well to the demanding workload, making use of Corvo's contacts and sources. Of course, there are some things he informs Corvo about that he knows the god could not have known through any natural means. Corvo appreciates the intel nonetheless, and the Outsider smiles knowingly when he excuses himself to go back to his room. He feels the Mark pulse through him when he dons his mask to roam Dunwall with his newfound knowledge, like the Outsider's hum of approval and satisfaction.

They have not talked much since the announcement.

The last of their sources excuses herself from the meeting room, leaving Corvo and the Outsider in the silence of the dim, candlelit room. The Outsider keeps his office in low light, complaining that whale oil lamps are too bright and hurt his eyes. Corvo wonders how much of that is true and whether the dim lighting allows the Outsider to do illicit things away from prying eyes. Magic, witchcraft, whatever it is and has been called.

"Corvo, you're thinking too hard again."

Corvo turns to look at him. His black eyes glimmer in the shine of the candlelight, flickering across the darkness. He tucks his hands behind his back, smiling sweetly.

"What's on your mind, dear one?"

Corvo looks away, feeling his fists clench by his sides. The Outsider will grow tired of playing house, he is sure of it. The idea of a domestic life with Corvo will seem less and less appealing the longer he lives in Corvo's slow paced reality within the castle walls, away from the thrill of combat and stealth of the Rat Plague Years. Corvo is certain the Outsider will tire of him, find him old and wanting of soft things, and instead seek out someone younger, rough around the edges and glory seeking.

"You say you are here to... be my lover. Or at least test the idea."

A pause, and then the Outsider hums, a low and quiet sound in his throat. “Does everything need to be perfectly outlined, Corvo? Would it not perhaps be better for the two of us to simply ‘go with the flow’, as they put it?” He takes a step closer, leaning his hip against the table as he drops his hands from behind his back to instead fold them across his chest. He tilts his head at him, a calm smile on his lips. “Can we not just let ourselves see where these recent developments will lead us?”

Corvo turns to look at him again, raising his hand up to— to touch him, his shoulder maybe, or his throat, or press his palm flat against his chest, where he will feel a false human heartbeat. He resolves not to touch him at all, dropping his hand, but the Outsider reaches up and catches it, twining his fingers with Corvo’s wordlessly.

“You will leave,” Corvo says after a moment. The Outsider’s fingers are ice cold. He is “human” and at the same time, he is not. “Surely, you will grow bored of this, find that being human is tiresome.”

“Perhaps,” the Outsider concedes. He squeezes Corvo’s hand. “Or perhaps, I will make the full journey to becoming your lover. One who sleeps by your side and wakes in your bed.”

“Don’t tease,” he says, and his voice is very soft, even to himself.

“I never tease,” the Outsider says, even softer. “Is it so hard to believe that I might want to take my time with this? A slow courtship. Is that not romantic?”

Corvo reaches his other hand up to curl against the Outsider’s face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. His other hand is still in the Outsider’s soft grip. His fingers are no longer as cold as they were at first touch. Perhaps Corvo’s warmth has spread to his skin. He has so many questions and he thinks neither of them have answers, but he asks anyway.

“Will you tell me what you want?” he whispers.

The Outsider lets go of his hand, instead fisting both in his coat lapels and tugging him closer. He turns so his hips are pressed back against the table frame and pulls Corvo to crowd him against it. Corvo drops his free hand to brace against the table, his thumb brushing against the edge of the Outsider’s hip. They’re hip to hip like this. If the Outsider leaned back, he could tug Corvo’s weight on top of him on the table.

“I want you, Corvo,” the Outsider breathes, leaning up to him. “But be patient. You’ll have me eventually.”

Corvo brushes his thumb over the corner of his mouth. “So you say.”

The Outsider turns his mouth to kiss his thumb, eyes fluttering shut. His eyelashes flare. He must know what it does to Corvo when he looks up at him from beneath his eyelashes, bright green eyes, warm with mirth and affection. “Sweet one, all things in due time.”

“Will you at least tell me what ‘Tethys Lotan’ means?” Corvo asks. He rolls the Outsider’s lower lip under his thumb.

The god parts his mouth for him, lets out a cold breath against his skin. “Because you will never be able to find the answer anywhere else,” he murmurs, “Lotan is a leviathan from another world. Not nearly as attractive as I though,” he replies, chuckling.

“And ‘Tethys’?"

“Wouldn’t you like to know, dear Corvo? I must be allowed to keep _some_ secrets.”

He dissipates, his warm and solid body between Corvo and the desk disappearing into black smoke and reflections of the Void with only a whispered “good night” in Corvo’s ear before his presence completely fades from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated!!! ur guys' really sweet and thoughtful comments have really kept me going on this fic <333 so thank you!
> 
> as always, come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	5. flowers for the ghost of desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their new relationship is tentative and fragile, but flowering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! slightly shorter chapter, but i'll be updating again this weekend ^^

Wyman fumbles, quickly removing their feet from the table and setting them down on the ground when they see Corvo enter. They nervously cough, a prim hand to their mouth as they dust off their thighs with their other hand. Wyman manages a sheepish smile as they cross their legs and straighten their back.

“At ease, Wyman,” he reassures them, unable to help his smile as he shuts the door behind him. “I know you were expecting my daughter.”

“It’s nice to see you,” Wyman says mildly after a moment, and then belatedly, “Sir.”

“Emily missed you,” Corvo says conversationally, walking across Emily’s office to set some papers down on her desk. He knows she is busy today, but the information he just received from his contacts and verified with the Outsider is important. “How long will you be staying this time?” He crosses back around the desk to sit on the sofa opposite Wyman.

They brush a short lock of blonde hair behind their ear. “A month, this time. Emily insisted I stay longer, but my family needs me.”

He waits for Wyman to continue, but the noble stays silent, fidgeting slightly. Corvo sighs internally. He supposes it’s his fault that Wyman is still awkward around him.

He's... notoriously overprotective of Emily. Not only as a father, but as her Royal Protector and Spymaster for the previous twelve years. Corvo knows, after all, that there are many who want to do Emily harm, either by getting close to her only to stick a knife between her ribs, or by winning her heart and then stealing her throne. His suspicions were at least abated somewhat when Emily admitted to him how she really met Wyman.

_"I was rooftop jumping," Emily said, smiling sheepishly when Corvo shot her a look. "Wyman was on the balcony of the inn they were staying at. I misjudged my jump and landed on the balcony instead of the roof." She snickered, "They drew their sword on me in an instant."_

_Corvo had shaken his head, but let her continue her story._

_"I assured Wyman I wasn't an assassin or thief, just a noble with a penchant for mischief," Emily says, smiling at her own joke. "We talked afterwards and I realized Wyman was the noble from Morley I was to meet tomorrow regarding trade routes between Gristol and Morley. Of course, we met in court the next day."_

_"So that's why Wyman was behaving oddly," Corvo muttered, earning a short laugh from Emily._

"Sir?"

Corvo shakes out of his reverie, turning to look at Wyman who's staring at him questioningly. "It's nothing," he reassures them. "Emily should be here shortly."

"Of course." Wyman glances at the papers Corvo put on her desk. "But if you have business with her, Lord Protector, I can come back another day."

Corvo crosses his legs and leans back against the sofa. He's done interfering with Wyman's relationship with Emily. He remained suspicious of Wyman even after Emily told him of their first meeting, but in the end, he found that the noble proved to be genuine and kind, devoted to their family and the greater good. He's spent the past two years being purposefully being difficult with the noble, but it's really time for him to loosen up with Wyman. After all, in a few years, Wyman may very well be Emily's spouse and by extension, Corvo's family.

"You're always so sharp-tongued with the other nobles," Corvo says. "I was hoping you might extend your wit in conversations with me."

Wyman looks mildly alarmed. "I wouldn't dare disrespect you like that."

Corvo sighs internally. He supposes there's much to be done before Wyman will relax completely with him.

“She loves you dearly, you know,” Wyman says after a moment, smiling hesitantly. "She tells me you have been working yourself too hard recently."

"It is the job of a Royal Protector. She worries too much."

"She wants you to be happy," Wyman insists, leaning forward in their seat, brow furrowed and expression serious. "Just as you wish for her happiness, she is equally as concerned for yours."

"Of course," Corvo murmurs softly to himself.

He doesn't know why it comes as a surprise to him that that's the case. He's never thought of his job as the Royal Protector as a burden, but it's never occurred to him that Emily might think that it is, with how Corvo pushes his body through late nights and puts himself in dangerous situations for her sake.

"What else has Emily said about me?"

Wyman smiles, "She says you have been happier since the new Spymaster arrived." And then quieter, daring to be playful, they add, "Though I would not have needed to be told that to surmise as much."

Now that's concerning.

Corvo clears his throat, trying not to let the warmth in his cheeks show. "Is that so? He is... a good friend, from days past."

Wyman crosses their legs, smile widening. "I'm glad."

Corvo tries not to think too hard about what this means about how transparent his affections for the deity must be, and he is saved by Emily entering the room.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
It is the first time in two weeks since Corvo and the Outsider have had free time to meet. The Outsider is proving to be a devastatingly efficient addition to their government. He smiles in court, shrewd and sweet. The court is beginning to understand why he has been chosen to bear the other half of Corvo's duties. He digs up secrets faster than the nobility can bury them.

The god usually disappears for awhile, presumably back to the Void, after his court appearances and meetings. He is present today though, citing that he and Corvo haven't had much "alone time" in awhile.

"You've been busy uprooting the nobility."

"Oh, and it is so much _fun_ ," the Outsider hums, holding out his arms and spreading his hands and fingers. "The look of panic on their faces as I tell them I know about that skeleton in their closet or the fresh corpse under their pretty little flower garden." He smiles, leaning forward. "But dear Corvo, that is not what I am here to talk about right now. I've something else on my mind."

"Tell me then," Corvo responds, and he knows that the Outsider knows there is more to his sentence than just their current conversation.

"Perhaps," he starts, voice a low drawl, "you should teach me how to sword fight."

So he means to continue evading Corvo's questions, his pleas for the Outsider to make his intentions clear.

The Outsider presses a finger to the hilt of Corvo's sword on his hip, stepping close until he's almost chest to chest with Corvo. He smiles down at him, eyelashes flaring as he blinks coyly. Corvo hates that the Outsider is taller than him, even if it's only by a few inches. The god takes a step back, withdrawing his hand to tuck both behind his back, smiling tight-lipped at Corvo, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes.

Corvo scoffs. "You do not have the patience for it."

"A four thousand year old god, lacking in patience?" the Outsider leans forward again, eyes melding into pitch black before returning to their normal green color. "Dearest, what makes you say that?"

Corvo reaches up, grips the Outsider's jaw in his fingers lightly, tilting his face up. "It's an excuse to get close to me," he pauses to take a deep breath, "because you do not know how to be transparent with your intentions."

The Outsider's expression twists just barely in surprise before he reigns it back into careful neutrality. "What a bold claim, Corvo. You're awfully cocky." He reaches up to wrap his fingers around Corvo's hand, grip painfully tight, a warning. "Teach me how to wield the sword, Corvo. A Royal Spymaster should know how to defend himself, and who better to learn from than the Royal Protector himself?"

Corvo pulls his hand from the Outsider's grip. "Then you will have me," he replies, and he smiles at the way the Outsider's eyes brighten in interest at his words. At last, a reaction of interest. "I will not go easy on you."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider is leaning against the wall in the hallway opposite his bedroom when he wakes up the next day. He has a heavy sword hitched on his hip. His arms are folded over his chest. He smiles.

"Greetings, Lord Protector," he says sweetly, voice played up for the maid quietly dusting a stand nearby.

She is watching, listening. It is what the servants in the castle do, but Corvo does not begrudge them. Sometimes they offer a great lot of insight into the secrets of others.

"Tethys," Corvo replies smoothly, voice still rough from sleep. "A sight for sore eyes."

The maid turns her back to them as she moves to start wiping down the bookshelves nearby. She is still listening. He does not begrudge her. But he does wish for some privacy. The rumors surrounding him only get more and more impressive. While a more mischievous side of him enjoys how the more nefarious and infamous rumors make his position as the Royal Protector easier, he wants some things, at least, to remain a secret.

"Join me for breakfast," Corvo decides to suggest. "We can discuss matters over food."

The Outsider seems surprised, and then, pleased. His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, and Corvo wonders where they're going from here, where they’ll be in a year or two. But only time will tell, because he and the Outsider are equally blind to their future.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
They eat breakfast in the courtyard. It is still spring, but it is nearing summer, and the weather is warm with a breeze. The stone seats are already warm when they sit down outside with the food. It occurs to Corvo he does not know what the Outsider eats, if he eats at all. But the Outsider tells the servants "the usual" when asked what he would like. The food comes out a half hour later. Corvo is handed soft omelettes with Serkonan blood sausage and Saggunto flatbread while the Outsider is presented with fluffy blueberry pancakes drenched in honey with butter and a maraschino cherry on top, an apricot tartlet, and Gristol apple slices steeped in caramel.

Corvo frowns at him. "That is more sugar than substance."

The Outsider snuffles, picking up his fork and knife primly. "Human food is terrible," he replies, cutting into his pancakes. "Only sweet foods such as candied fruits and pastries suit my palate."

"You realize the servants will be suspicious if that is all you consume."

"You worry too much, favorite," the Outsider says, smiling around his fork as he takes a bite. There's honey on his mouth. He licks his lips and then swipes his tongue over the front of his teeth.

"It is my job to worry."

"Of course."

The Outsider plucks the honey-drenched cherry off the top of the pancake, pressing it to his lips, tongue darting out to lap up the excess honey. He pops the rest of it into his mouth, plucking it from the stem. Corvo tries not to stare, and he thinks he's already failed at that.

The Outsider hums, setting the stem down on a napkin. "I am not so easily found out. I have eluded the Abbey for decades now and the other four thousand years worth of religions that hated me."

Corvo has no response to that so he quietly starts cutting into his omelette and blood sausage. They eat for awhile in silence, the breeze around them warm, bringing with it the scent of various flowers from the garden nearby. The Outsider closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. When he opens his eyes again, he turns his head to look over at the garden.

"The flowers will wilt with summer around the corner. A shame." He props his elbow on the table, resting his chin on the back of his hand. An impish smile starts to curl his lips. "Dear Corvo, do you know what flowers I would pick for us?"

Corvo doesn't answer. The god will continue whether or not he is prompted by him.

The Outsider turns his gaze back to Corvo, the whites of his eyes dissipating, clouded over by pure black. "Balsamine, Lily of the Valley, poppy, and hydrangea."

Corvo chews quietly around his blood sausage, meeting the Outsider's eyes. "And?"

The Outsider chuckles. "Impatience. Sweetness, returning happiness, humility. Oblivion. Heartlessness and heartfelt emotion intertwined. Very fitting, isn't it?"

"Twelve years is a long time," he says, keeping his gaze on his plate of half-eaten food. He can feel the heavy weight of the Outsider's gaze on him as he cuts another piece of his omelette. "Would you really call it impatience? I am already old.”

He looks up to see the Outsider's brow wrinkled, his mouth downturned.

"Yes, yes," he mutters, waving a hand dismissively. "And humans do not live very long. I'm aware.” And then, softer, "You think I am being difficult for the sake of being difficult.” He reaches over, sliding his hand palm up across the table. “Corvo. Teach me the sword.”

Corvo hesitates before he puts his hand over the Outsider’s, fingers barely brushing over the palm of his hand. His skin is warm for once. Still cooler than the average human, but it has soaked up some of the warmth from outside. He may be human yet. It makes Corvo dizzy with wonder, if everything will work out after all. He wants for a lot, and he fears being nothing more than a fool and a heretic. Because that would be so boring.

And the Outsider does not like boring things.

Corvo feels the Mark on his hand burn red hot beneath his leather wrapping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> balsamine: impatience  
> lily of the valley: sweetness, humility, returning happiness, trust  
> poppy: sleep, death, oblivion  
> hydrangea (2 meanings): heartlessness OR heartfelt emotion
> 
> sorry for the short chapter, more coming this weekend!!! drop by and come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here in the meantime~


	6. (he might be human yet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider grows anew, inside of himself, something not unlike a human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now u guys know where the story summary came from ;3c

Emily holds the tea cup close to her mouth, closing her eyes and inhaling the warm scent. "Did you know," she says, her mouth pressed against the rim of her cup, "that there have been nobles from Tyvia desperate for your attention?"

Corvo looks up from his papers. "What?"

"The arrivals from Tyvia," Emily continues, unfazed, "Tyvians are so proud, weathered by the cold north, always shielded by their thick coats. But they seem to be soft on you," she snickers, eyes twinkling.

Corvo underlines a sentence in his papers and jots a note down in the margins. "You know I have no time for such things.”

“And yet you court the black-eyed devil,” Emily sniffs. She takes a loud slurp of her tea, a smug smile curling her lips.

Corvo leaves himself open to be teased too easily. He clears his throat. He supposes it was inevitable that Emily would comment on everything that’s been going on.

Corvo hears the rumors, of course. It’s not unlike the murmured speculation back when Jessamine had been the Empress. The nobles and guards comment and murmur under their breath about how the Royal Spymaster and the Royal Protector are awfully _close_ , like _lovers_. It makes his ears burn a little. He could never put everyone’s comments out of mind, even if they are... currently untrue.

“The Royal Spymaster is pretty,” he had heard a guard say to another one. “Wish I could hit that, but I bet the Lord Protector’s got that handled already, huh?” The two guards shared a snicker about it, and it had made Corvo’s face heat in embarrassment.

He’s… admittedly pleased they seem to know the Outsider is off-limits, that it is obvious that there is something intimate and personal about their working relationship, but he also feels jealous that others look upon the god with such interest and desire.

It didn't help when the Outsider accidentally called him "dearest" in front of several of the guards in a briefing.

"Thank you for your hard work," Corvo had said, nodding at the men. "Tethys, I'm glad you brought this to my attention."

"Of course, dearest Corvo," the Outsider murmured back, still staring distractedly at the map. He realized his slip and quickly turned on his heel to look at the guards.

The guards looked sheepish and curious, despite their best efforts to school their faces into something neutral. At the time, Corvo couldn’t help but smile to himself a little. It's rare, after all, that the Outsider slips up.

Emily sets her teacup down, reaching now for the bowl of sweet biscuits next to her tea pot. She breaks one in half, letting the crumbs fall onto the tea tray. “You know, Father, you could keep your options open. There is a Tyvian man who seems quite sweet.”

“You said you would not interfere in the affairs of your lovesick father,” Corvo says mildly. His cheeks are growing warm. Perhaps it is Emily’s way of getting back at him for all those months he was so difficult with her about Wyman.

Emily snickers, holding up her hand and crossing her fingers. “I lied,” she teases. “Besides, someone must do _something_ now that there is gold on the line.”

“Gold?” Corvo looks up at her, alarmed.

Emily merely smiles, pressing half of the biscuit into her mouth and chewing slowly before she answers. “Father, have you been slacking off as the Royal Protector? There’s at least three different betting rings.” She crosses her legs and reaches for the other biscuit half on the tray. "The servants and guards _and_ nobility speculate incessantly about whether you will bed the Outsider."

"I—" Corvo looks away. "I was aware of rumors. There are always rumors."

Admittedly, he wasn't aware they were betting money on the whole affair. But it makes sense it wouldn't come to his ears. The Outsider surely knows, but he also has no reason to tell Corvo.

Emily hums, downing her biscuit with more tea. "You know, I tried to bet against Wyman on the matter." She taps her finger to her new engagement ring. "I said if I won they would have to handle all the wedding preparations for us when it came to that. But they also refused to bet against me."

Corvo puts his face in his hands, groaning.

“You know, all jokes and my own monetary investments in this aside,” Emily says, softer now, “I do wish to see you happy, Father. Be patient with him."

When he looks up, there is a distant, thoughtful look on her face.

"I think for all his life, something nearing four thousand years, he has never been so frazzled as he is now with you."

That gives Corvo pause. He has never thought that the Outsider might not know what to do, how to behave. He has only ever considered the Outsider might be so distant and playful because it is in his nature to do so. He thought it deliberate, measured actions and careful words.

After all, he reasoned, that if someone were to live for four thousand years, there is little fun in being direct and forthcoming when they could be grandiose, awe-inspiring, and beautiful and vicious. It seems Corvo has forgotten that at the beginning, he was enamored with the whale god for the way his skin turned gossamer, revealing bones beneath, was enraptured by the shark teeth the Outsider would flash in his wicked smiles, and the oh-so-cruel, mild interest in which he would watch Corvo struggle through the fate the world dealt him.

He is old now, though, and tired. He wishes to settle down. He wishes for the Outsider to remain an enigmatic deity, but also a softer-hearted one, one who might think that being human for a lifetime is not so bad if he were to spend it with a loved one.

“You think he is lost,” Corvo says.

Emily looks at him seriously before she sighs quietly. “Yes. I think he finds himself confused that any human could capture his attention for as long as you have. He has spent now thirteen years interested in what you have to offer, Father.”

She stands up and paces over to her bookcase, where she keeps history books that Callista and Sokolov taught to her. “The march of time does not cease. He has lived for four thousand years and seen so much. Do you really think any human has kept him interested for more than a year?” She glances back at Corvo, eyes bright. “When our lives are but a blink of his eye?”

Corvo has never thought himself so special to the Outsider, despite the god’s oft-repeated words, claiming him as ‘dear’, ‘beloved’, and ‘favorite’. It is the language of a deity with not as heavy as a weight as it would normally bear, Corvo thought. He is a fool after all.

“You’ll talk to him, won’t you?” Emily asks, watching him carefully. She has grown so much. She no longer needs his guidance; it is she who sees with clarity now. “The suitors from Tyvia are not bad men or women, but they’re not him, are they?”

“No,” he agrees, “they’re not.”  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider meets him for breakfast the next day, a sword still hitched heavy on his slim hips. Corvo takes him to the courtyard again and they talk quietly over food. He will teach the Outsider the sword, recognize it for what it is, an endearing and clumsy attempt at flirting. He looks over at him fondly as the Outsider nibbles at his pancakes.

“What is it?” the Outsider asks, frowning. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” Corvo smiles, and his heart clenches at the way the Outsider’s eyes drop to his mouth, pleased to see him smiling. “I was merely admiring you.”

The Outsider looks away, an embarrassed wrinkle to his brow now. “Corvo,” he murmurs, voice soft. “Always the charmer, aren’t you? First, you seduce the Empress. And then, the court laid their affections bare for you, hoping you would take one of them to bed. Now, you use your loose words with me.”

Corvo smiles. “I do have a suitor,” he says conversationally. “A slightly younger aristocrat from Tyvia by the age of forty. He seems sincere and has requested a meeting. Perhaps I’ll indulge him.”

The Outsider huffs, picking at his pancakes petulantly with his fork. “And you will woo him even further if he meets you in person. He will be drawn to your surly, difficult demeanor, be enamored by your rough hands and soft eyes.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Perhaps,” he says, and it is all he will say on the matter.

They finish their breakfast in silence before Corvo beckons the Outsider to an open area of the courtyard. He dismisses the guards on duty, and he does not miss the looks they exchange, and the stolen glances they sneak back at Corvo and the Outsider. There will be so many more wild rumors by nightfall. Corvo cannot find it in himself to worry anymore.

He draws his sword next to the Outsider and waits for the deity to mimic his posture.

“Good.” He sheathes his sword and steps close to him. He wraps his arms around the Outsider’s body, putting his hands over his on the sword hilt to adjust his grip. “Hold it like this.”

The Outsider leans back into him with interest, words soft when he speaks next. “So it was worthwhile to ask for private lessons from you after all.”

“Focus,” Corvo chides gently.

The Outsider’s hands are small, smooth, and cool beneath his bigger, rougher, and warmer ones. His nails are painted black and they are neatly trimmed. He has a small ink blot on his index finger and a new callus on his middle finger. Corvo traces his thumb over the back of his hand. The Outsider’s cool skin is warming quickly beneath Corvo’s hand.

(He might be human yet.)

"You put on eyeliner," he says.

The Outsider smiles. "Oh, so the lip gloss is not too noticeable? Good, I was hoping it wouldn't be too gaudy." He turns his head so his breath fans across Corvo's jaw. "Emily's recommendation, by the way. She says the eyeliner will draw your attention to my eyes. Though you already tend to get lost in them, don't you?"

"You're very cliche," Corvo complains, but he does like the eyeliner, the sharp winged look framing his green eyes and long eyelashes. "Who are you trying to impress?"

The Outsider clicks his tongue, "I wonder."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Recently, the Outsider lingers along the fringes of Corvo's affection whenever he can afford to. He brushes fingers with Corvo whenever they exchange items (a touch that always causes burning underneath his skin, beneath his Mark). He stands too close to be friendly, even in public now, his arm always brushing Corvo's, their thighs pressed together when they sit next to each other. And when he speaks, his words are soft, only meant for Corvo's ears.

The rumors get louder, the speculation more wild. Corvo finds some amusement in them now. They could never know how outlandish the real truth is— that their Royal Spymaster is the Outsider, the whale god who inspires so much fear and wonder across the Isles and Corvo is the monster he created, his beloved marked, the Masked Felon of Dunwall.

“Quite a marvel still,” the Outsider says, tracing his fingers over the grooves of Corvo’s mask. “I truly did give Piero good inspiration in that dream so many years ago.”

“It still has its uses around the city.”

“Every so often, a break in the tedium,” he says, flourishing his hands, a smile stretching his lips, “But Dunwall is at such an era of overall peace, brought about by your actions during the Plague Years and Emily’s benevolent and just reign.”

Corvo pulls his mask off, handing it to the Outsider when the god holds his hand out expectantly for it, like a child wanting a toy. He hangs up his sword and tucks his pistol away in the velvet lined box. The whale god turns the mask around in his hands, seeming enthralled by it. He trails his fingers along the edges, presses the pads of his thin fingers into the grooves and gaps.

“What a fearsome thing,” he murmurs softly, a quiet reverence in his voice.

Corvo shucks off his coat and then suddenly feels oddly self-conscious. It just occurs to him that this is the first time the Outsider has ever manifested in his bedroom in the real world. He had gone out that night to survey the city after hearing of some conflicts among new gangs in the lower districts. When he returned, crawling in through his window, the Outsider had manifested by the fireplace, standing with his hands tucked behind his back.

Corvo wants to ask why he’s here, if there's any particular reason. He has never seen the Outsider in his bedroom except for when he “checked in” by materializing in vague form of smoke and bones a few times at the start of this whole… courtship. And of course, he's seen the Outsider in his bedroom in dreams— the illicit ones. The ones that aren't prompted by the Outsider’s actual presence. The ones that leave him feeling heated and embarrassed when he wakes in the morning.

The Outsider eventually sets the mask down, putting it back into its place in the velvet lined box. He shuts the lid over it, clasping the lock before he turns to Corvo again.

“Emily left a gift for you earlier,” he says, gesturing at the night table by Corvo’s bed. “I suspect I already know what it is, but I don't pry so I left it untouched.”

Corvo paces over to his night table to see a small pouch on top of a folded letter. “With all your witchcraft, you couldn't read a measly letter?” he teases. “Then how have you been providing me intel?”

“I do not pry into your affairs, Corvo,” the Outsider says honestly, voice soft. “That isn't what this relationship is about. I may use magic to make visiting you easier, but I will not snoop through your personal life.” He looks away. “I do not want our relationship to be surveyor and subject anymore.”

Corvo feels his throat work in a swallow as he stares at the Outsider in surprise. He is devastatingly honest. Corvo doesn't know what to do with his words, the way they have laid bare some of the Outsider’s thoughts and feelings. He looks away, turning his attention to the pouch. He unfolds the letter and sees Emily’s neat handwriting along with a few lines scrawled in Wyman’s hand. It’s a short paragraph about Wyman’s gift to him.

The Outsider clears his throat, and he sounds almost awkward when he asks, “What is it?”

Corvo shakes his head and smiles to himself as he sets the letter back down. “A tongue-in-cheek gift,” Corvo explains, “White leaf tobacco was ruled to be legalized in Gristol. Wyman thought to send a pouch my way before the law is to take official effect.”

The Outsider’s gaze flickers to the hookah in the corner of his room next to the sofa. “Ah, for your occasional vice, is it?”

It's true, he doesn't smoke a lot. Once a month, if at all. He’s older now, and there's little thrill in it like when he was younger, at Emily’s current age. Corvo paces over to the sofa slowly. “I assume you’ve never smoked.”

The Outsider wrinkles his nose. “No. But I know it is popular, especially among nobles. They think it classier than getting drunk and falling down staircases. I’m hardpressed to find a reason to disagree, though it is so amusing to see the nobles lie that their injuries are from some scuffle with ruffians.”

Corvo can't help but laugh at that and the sudden sound seems to startle the Outsider. The god looks surprised… and then _pleased_ , something warm in his black eyes as he turns towards Corvo. He watches as Corvo prepares the tobacco for the hookah, pacing over to sit on the sofa quietly next to him. Corvo pulls the pipe out and takes a slow drag. Well. He sees why Emily likes the white leaf tobacco so much.

He feels the Outsider’s hands on his jaw, cradling his face and turning him to look at him. Corvo wants to move because he doesn't want to breathe out into his face, but the Outsider parts his lips with his thumb, letting the stream of smoke trickle out slowly.

The Outsider is unperturbed by the vapor. His expression is thoughtful as he strokes his thumb over Corvo’s lower lip.

“Even in moderation, a vice like this could kill you eventually, dear Corvo,” he murmurs softly, “And then what will I do?"

"Perhaps you'll find another soul to torture,” Corvo teases, “Another tired middle-aged father who is so desperate for your fickle attention."

“There is no one else,” the Outsider replies suddenly, voice fierce. His brow pinches just barely. “There is no other soul like yours. When you’re gone, I’ll wait to find you again, when your soul is reincarnated in a thousand or so years.”

Corvo’s heart is thudding in his ears and the Mark burns hot on his skin, under his wrappings, like it's about to burst into flames.

And then, as though caught being too sentimental, the Outsider’s hands drop slowly from Corvo’s face. He looks away, voice quiet when he says, “Don't die, beloved. It would be so troublesome for me.”

“Outsider—”

But before Corvo can word his thoughts, the Outsider has pressed a warm finger to his lips and curled the other hand against his cheek again. His body starts to fade again into black smoke and blue-grey light.

“Good night, dear Corvo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading! see you guys next week~
> 
> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) in the meantime~


	7. the answer to your question "why"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider discovers an answer to his confusion, a desire to fall in love and be in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise early update ;3c

Emily pulls Corvo aside and he is filled with concern before seeing her expression. She looks like she's trying hard not to smile, but she will never be able to fully conceal her expressive eyes, the eyes she got from Jessamine. There's a twinkle in her gaze, mischievousness.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, really,” Emily says, but she is smiling. “Except the Outsider was supposed to meet with some trade merchants today along with me. He did not show up early like I had asked him to, so I sought out his room and found him… drunk.”

Corvo blinks. “I’m sorry, you said he’s _drunk?_ ”

Emily laughs now, loud and full of amusement. “He was sitting on his bed sulking with a wine glass next to him. He seems upset about something, but he wouldn't say. I figure he’ll only talk to you.”

Corvo opens his mouth, closes it. He isn't even sure where to begin with this. Emily pats his arm with a smile.

“I’ll handle the merchants; tell them that dear _Tethys Lotan_ wasn't feeling well. You should check on him.”

Emily departs looking far too amused. Corvo suspects she’ll tease him more later, but he’ll worry about that when he has to cross that bridge.

He paces towards the Outsider’s bedchambers, and though he’s sure the servants notice his quicker than normal strides, they say nothing.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider is sitting in the bed, lounging back against the headboard. He’s dressed in his normal attire, but the clothes are a little more rumpled, a few buttons undone. There is a bottle of dessert wine on the night table along with a half-filled glass of the drink. It must be the sweetest wine they carry in the castle, otherwise Corvo knows he would not drink it at all.

He has dismissed the guards and servants from the Outsider’s hallway, not wanting them to hear if he and the Outsider get into an argument in case either of them let slip the truth about “Tethys Lotan”. He doesn't know what the god is mad about, but he hopes he can fix the situation.

Corvo shuts the door behind him quietly, locking it. The Outsider hasn't seemed to notice him yet. His head is turned away from the door, looking at the windows.

“Outsider?” he asks softly.

The deity perks up at the sound of his voice, turning his head slowly to look at him. The Outsider’s eyes are green still, and they are half-lidded. He looks sleepy and dazed. He shifts on his elbows to try and sit up further.

“Corvo?” He smiles a little, holding out his hands in his direction. “Dearest. Hello.”

Corvo frowns to himself as he approaches the bed slowly. It's… strange, to say the least, to see the normally mischievous, enigmatic god look so open and unguarded. He stops near the Outsider’s night table. He pushes the wine bottle and glass further away from the bed before turning his attention to the god.

“Will you tell me what's wrong?” he asks patiently. “Emily told me you missed the meeting you had planned with her. Is everything alright?”

The Outsider scowls a little, nose wrinkled as he waves a hand dismissively and looks away. “I didn’t want to go to the meeting. I had too much to think about.”

Corvo hesitates before he sits down on the edge of the bed. “Perhaps you should rest,” he suggests. He does want to know what’s bothering the Outsider, but he’d rather talk to him when he’s sober, with his thoughts and words in order.

“Corvo, beloved.” The Outsider puts a hand clumsily over his wrist, squeezing gently. His hand is hot on Corvo’s skin, like a brand of fire. “I wish it wasn’t so difficult.”

“You should rest,” Corvo coaxes, pressing a hand to his shoulder to try and urge him to lay back down. “I don’t know how you managed to get drunk, but you should sleep it off. We can talk when you’re sober.”

“I want to talk now.” The Outsider makes a petulant expression, pouting as he tugs at his wrist lightly. “I want—”

Corvo presses a finger to his mouth briefly, shaking his head. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

The Outsider leans forward, letting go of his wrist to wrap the fingers of both his hands in his jacket's lapels. "You always have to be so difficult, Corvo." His words are slightly slurred when he murmurs them. "Beloved. You're so frustrating."

"So I'm the one who's being difficult?" Corvo asks, but he cannot keep the fondness out of his voice.

The Outsider scoffs, letting go of one lapel to wave a hand shakily. "Have you never heard of playing hard to get, my love?" He tugs at his lapels again petulantly, eyes soft and wanting. He breathes out, warm breath fanning against his jaw. “Kiss me, Corvo.”

“No,” he says, voice soft but firm. He pushes him back, keeping his touch gentle. There’s an overwhelming amount of fondness in his heart as he looks upon this ruffled, lost Outsider, confused and longing. “You’re drunk.”

“Even now, you deny me and you say you aren't being difficult,” the Outsider complains, sulking as he sits back.

“When you’re sober,” Corvo murmurs, running a hand through the Outsider’s fluffy, sleep ruffled hair, “if you still want me to kiss you, I will gladly do so. For now, you should sleep and rest.” He squeezes the Outsider’s hands before pulling them gently to remove it from his jacket. “Find me again when you are sober.”

He slips from the Outsider’s grasp. He stands up and paces for the door before pausing. He turns to glance back to find that the Outsider has petulantly turned his back to him on the bed. Seeing his chance, he quietly plucks the wineglass and bottle from the nightstand and takes it with him as he leaves. He’ll have to make up an excuse to the servants, who will come up with their own stories surrounding the wine bottle and the hands it has been exchanged by.

  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Alexi is standing outside of the Outsider’s door the next day, looking troubled. Her hand is curled with the knuckles facing the door, as if she is unsure whether or not she should knock. Corvo’s footsteps make her look up, relief spreading over her face.

“The Royal Protector himself,” she says lightly, smiling as she tucks her hand behind her back in an informal salute. “Good morning to you.”

Corvo’s gaze flickers to the door before looking back to her. “Good morning, Alexi. I’m guessing Emily sent you to escort the… Royal Spymaster to her office after he missed yesterday’s meeting.”

Alexi nods, looking a little sheepish. “Her Royal Highness informed me that he was not feeling well yesterday, but she did want to talk to him today, citing that it was a bit urgent. However, he isn’t answering. I’m not sure if I should bother him if he’s resting.”

Corvo has to bite back a laugh in the back of his throat. The Outsider must be hungover, he realizes. He did drink an awful lot of wine yesterday. Admittedly, Corvo isn’t sure how the Outsider even got drunk when he’s a deity, but it does amuse him that the Outsider not only got drunk but now might be suffering a hangover.

“I can handle it from here, Captain,” he says, trying not to smile. He must have failed because she shoots him a confused look back.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, and then adds, teasing, “And they say the old Royal Protector never laughs.”

Corvo covers his smile with a hand, “It’s nothing. I’ll inform Emily myself what’s going on with our... temperamental Spymaster.”

Alexi shoots him another amused look before giving him an informal bow and pacing back down the hallway. He waits until she’s nearly at the corner before he knocks on the door, rapping his knuckles gently on the wood.

“Tethys, are you awake?”

No answer. The door opens by itself.

Corvo’s eyes widen at the strange sight inside and he quickly steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. The inside of the room is… filled with water. The water level is up past the mattress level, but it displaces nothing in the room. When Corvo opened the door, the water seemingly held back by the door did not move. The water seems to be self-contained in the space of the bedroom. And when Corvo raises his hand out of the water, he find his fingers are not wet. The water is completely still, except for when he moves, creating ripples that dissipate unnaturally quickly.

The Outsider, meanwhile, is sitting against the headboard, legs curled up to his chest with his head resting over the top of his knees. The water is perfectly still around his ankles.

Corvo wades through the water, feels how it parts for him easily, unlike how real water would resist. He sits down on the edge of the Outsider’s bedside again.

“Good morning.”

There's a long pause before the Outsider lifts his head from his knees. He looks tired and in pain, brow wrinkled and green eyes scrunched up.

“Good morning, Corvo,” he says, and his voice sounds slightly hoarse.

Corvo can't help his smile. He reaches up and presses a hand to the Outsider’s forehead. “You’re a little warm, but I imagine you’re mostly bothered by your headache.”

The Outsider makes a vague, displeased noise. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into Corvo’s hand. “Beloved, I doubt you know how actually taxing it is to maintain a human visage. I am not of flesh and bone and blood in the Void. For a long time, it took great concentration to be human.”

The Outsider opens his eyes, reaching up to grip Corvo’s hand, tilting it so it instead presses against his cheek. His skin is far warmer than it normally is. Corvo wonders if it’s because he isn’t feeling well or if he has simply… grown warmer over time.

“Not to mention all the other troublesome things such as remembering to blink and breathe and eat."

He turns his face, pressing a kiss into the palm of Corvo’s hand.

“But I have played the role of a human Spymaster for nearly a year now, and every day it gets easier and easier to maintain this human form.” His frown deepens as he leans his cheek again into Corvo’s hand. “You must be wondering how I even managed to get myself… intoxicated last night. But I can offer no explanation. The Void will not obey me, and I cannot use magic to dispel this horrendous headache and nausea.”

Corvo rubs his thumb over a cheekbone. “And what of this… water in the room?”

The Outsider sighs, sitting up and shifting onto his knees to crawl closer to Corvo. “It is a product of the Void. Its energy and magic is spilling in because I am… unwell.”

He settles down again, kneels by Corvo with his legs tucked underneath him. He leans into his side slowly and rests his head against his shoulder. Corvo hesitates before slipping his arm around his back, tucking his hand against his waist. His heart is thudding. It must betray him, the Outsider must know, even in his weakened state, with his uncontrolled Void magic.

“You know there are things that can help you with your hangover,” Corvo says, squeezing his waist gently to get his attention.

The Outsider looks so tired, like he might fall asleep on his shoulder. Corvo isn’t sure what he would do if that happened. He has duties to attend to today, but he would not want to wake the Outsider either if he fell asleep on him. He is soft; he blames it on a weakness for the god.

“I can fetch some pickle juice,” he tries, “I know it will be an affront to your palate, but—”

“No.” The Outsider shakes his head into his shoulder. “I want pastries. The dessert wine, but without the alcohol.”

Corvo laughs, startling even himself with the sound. He turns to press a kiss into the Outsider’s messy hair. He smells like the fresh ocean breeze, and a lingering scent of the sweet wine he had yesterday. “You will eventually have to eat something other than sugar, Outsider.”

The Outsider shakes his head again, muttering something unintelligible into Corvo’s jacket. He decides to let the god be for awhile, leaving the two of them to sit in quiet silence in the bedroom of water. Corvo kicks his legs lightly in the water, watching it ripple in short waves and then fade back to stillness.

“I haven’t forgotten what we talked about yesterday,” the Outsider says suddenly, after a long time.

Corvo stiffens, looks away into the water, where the sunlight cracking through the blinds dances off the water’s surface. “It was not much of a conversation, really. I thought it best to put you to rest.”

He blinks and when he opens his eyes again, the world has rearranged itself. Now he and the Outsider are sitting on the ceiling as though it were the floor with the water above them like a canopy. He looks up, marvels at how the water is now completely still, like a sheet of glass over the room.

“The Void is such a strange force,” he murmurs.

“You will be my ruin, Corvo.”

The water comes cascading down and Corvo shuts his eyes quickly, reflexively. He feels the water flood down over him, coldness washing over his skin and clothes. When he opens his eyes again, they are back on the bed, but the whole room is filled with water now. The Outsider sits up, grasps Corvo’s face in his hands, green eyes bright. He opens his mouth and bubbles and smoke seep out.

“Corvo,” he says, and his voice sounds clear as day, even though they’re underwater. “I want so many things from you, and none of it is easy to say.”

He wants to answer him, but he doesn’t know how to. The Outsider presses a thumb to his lower lip.

“Speak, dear one.”

Corvo opens his mouth, feels water on his tongue, but finds that he can breathe too. “Tell me what you want.”

The Outsider’s green eyes glow shock bright. The water in the room twists and turns and surges around their bodies, this time soaking their skin and clothing as it passes. It condenses slowly into a swirling ball of water in front of the Outsider, floating right where his heart would be. The ball of water ripples with energy as it absorbs the rest of the liquid from the room. Then it starts to slow down, the violent rippling quelling until it pulses, like a heartbeat. The circular orb of water starts to form the shape of a human heart, pulsing quietly.

“Dear Corvo,” the Outsider whispers, and when he touches Corvo’s cheek, his hand is still burning hot. Corvo’s Mark on his flesh burns in response, a resonance. “You’ve stolen something from me. The answer to your question, ‘why’.”

The hum of energy and magic in the room has faded, leaving only the sound of their quiet breathing and the soft heartbeat of the water heart. The Outsider closes his eyes, moving both his hands beneath the water heart. It bursts, spilling water over his skin, rivulets draining between his fingers. Just as quickly, steam rises from the Outsider’s body, the water evaporating from his skin and clothing as he heats up.

Corvo forgets to breathe as the Outsider reaches out and grips one of Corvo’s hands, guiding it to press his palm over his chest where he feels the fast, heavy beat of a living heart.

“You stole something, dear Corvo,” the Outsider murmurs, “and you gave something back in return.”

Corvo has so many things he wants to say, but the Outsider suddenly collapses forward into his arms. He is quick to press a hand to the Outsider’s neck, fingers against his pulse, the other hand curling over his forehead, brushing against his hair. The Outsider merely seems to be unconscious, exhausted, with a fast heartbeat that is starting to slow down as he enters sleep. He’s running a slight fever now, from what Corvo can tell.

He glances around the room, finds that absolutely nothing looks out of order. Other than the fact that Corvo is now soaked through with real water, it appears nothing else looks suspicious. He carefully picks the Outsider up and sets him back down on the bed properly, pulling the sheets up to his chest. Corvo paces into the bathroom and soaks a towel in cool water, returning to fold it and place it over the Outsider’s forehead. He’ll have to ask the servants to avoid the Outsider’s room for awhile.

He will check back in on the deity soon, but first, he supposes he owes Emily an explanation as to why her Spymaster is out of commission.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Corvo has to make the trek back to his bedroom for a change of clothes, and more than a few alarmed servants approach him, asking him what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” he assures a mousy-haired, meek servant, smiling, “I had a fight with the Spymaster and he splashed water on me.”

The servant stares at him in disbelief. “Is everything… alright?”

“Yes,” Corvo says, and he’s trying to keep his smile from spreading too much. That would cause suspicion, though he’s sure the servants will have exchanged stories in a few hours over break. “He’s not feeling well. A little feverish. That’s why he’s temperamental, but he wants to be left alone. I’ll tend to him.”

Corvo apologizes to the servants for the trail of wet footsteps he’s leaving on the floor and carpet. He makes it back to his room and changes out of his clothes, wiping himself down with a towel in the bathroom. He hears a knock at the bedroom door and then Emily’s voice announcing her entrance. He cracks open the bathroom door while he gets changed so he can talk to her.

“I’m starting to think,” Emily says, humor obvious in her voice, “that you’re enjoying the scandal this is going to become.”

Corvo smiles to himself as he tugs on his slacks. “What makes you say that, my Empress?”

“You could’ve just snuck back to your room from his bedroom, but instead you made such a spectacle of trekking back like a wet dog,” Emily snorts. A pause and then, faintly accusatorily, she adds, “I’m starting to think you’re trying to one-up me after all those months of courtly gossip of me and Wyman you had to weather through.”

Corvo’s smile turns into a grin as he finishes buttoning his jacket and steps out of the bathroom. “Did you actually need him for something urgent?”

Emily rolls her eyes at him, folding her arms across her chest. “No. I wanted him to gather intel on a supposed gang war someone wants to incite in Dunwall.” She waves a dismissive hand when Corvo frowns at her. “Honestly, I doubt we need his intel. I assume it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

He and Emily discuss how they’ll handle it while the Outsider is… incapacitated. Corvo reaches out to his contacts for anything they might’ve heard. He’ll personally scour the city at night sometime this week, keeping his own ear to the ground for any whispers from the underbelly of Dunwall. Corvo tells her with a cough about how he’ll be working in the Outsider’s room until evening to keep an eye on him. He receives a judgmental and amused look from Emily for his troubles as she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the support and comments so far!!! the support is what keeps me going~
> 
> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	8. humanoid; specter; ghost;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They come to an agreement, a date, a dance, a shared bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***spoilers for the outsider's name in DOTO
> 
> some personal headcanons here:  
> corvo never killed any of the boyle sisters, instead he kidnapped waverly and she offered her financial support to the loyalist cause instead and was safely returned to her family after hiram burrows was killed
> 
> also a note about the number of marked in this fic/universe...  
> i'm actually not sure if it's 4 ppl:  
> \- emily isn't marked  
> \- granny rags has been killed by corvo  
> \- the lonely rat boy is dead  
> \- an unnamed woman bears the mark somewhere (according to the wiki)  
> \- delilah is... indisposed (daud's nonlethal brigmore witches ending)

It is in the late afternoon, near evening, when the Outsider finally rouses from his sleep.

Corvo has been working on paperwork all day at the Outsider’s table, but now that he has finished, he’s working on responding to personal letters. There are some from Samuel, Lydia, and Cecelia, the former Hound Pits Pub Loyalists. Aside from that, he’s still in contact with the Boyle sisters as well. Esma is flirtatious as always, Lydia is shy but polite, and Waverly is mild but pleasant. The last of his personal letters is from the Tyvian noble Emily introduced to him; the one he has joked with the Outsider about meeting. It’s a very politely worded letter of courtship. He’s read it before, but he has been too busy to respond for the past few days.

The Outsider wakes up as Corvo has finished penning his response letter. He looks over to see the deity sitting up slowly in bed, drowsily rubbing at his eyes. The recently replaced and still damp towel on his forehead falls onto his lap and he wrinkles his nose down at it, as if it has done him a great offense.

“Are you feeling better?” Corvo asks, turning in his chair to look at him. He slings his arm around the back of the chair, pen still dangling in his fingers. He honestly is surprised the Outsider can seemingly get sick at all, much less need to sleep to regain his strength.

The Outsider picks up the towel in his hands, staring at it for a few long moments before he says, a little stilted, “Yes.”

“Are you hungry?” Corvo asks.

There’s a fond warmth curling up inside him at the sight of a disheveled Outsider sitting in his bed, a little bleary eyed still. The air has a sleepy domesticity to it in here, and it makes Corvo wonder if the Outsider will stay after all. It is quiet here, dimly lit, and warm from the fireplace (which he stoked for the Outsider) and the beginnings of summer heat seeping in through the windows.

The Outsider finally looks up. “Will you get me pastries?”

Corvo smiles, swinging his pen between his fingers. “If you will have some chicken soup with it, I’ll consider it.”

The god huffs. “I’m not ill.”

Corvo decides not to contest it. He sets his pen down and paces over to him. He sits down next to his bedside, gently taking the towel from his fingers. He presses his other hand to his forehead. He’s still warm.

The Outsider looks away as Corvo drops his hand away from his face. “I know you think I am running a fever, but I am… my body has started to run warmer.” His eyes are still green, Corvo realizes. “I am no longer ice cold to the touch, like carved marble or ocean bone.”

Corvo doesn’t know how to reply. All he can think about is how the Outsider presented a water heart to him earlier, how he felt a living heartbeat thudding beneath his skin made of smoke and flesh and magic, in the cavern of whalebone ribcages. He has not forgotten how the Outsider had clutched at his clothes earlier, drunk, a pretty pink flush over his cheeks as he demanded Corvo kiss him.

“I am becoming more than I intended,” the Outsider whispers. “That this contraption of mimicry flesh and blood might even get aches and pains and require sustenance like a real human.”

Corvo reaches for him again, curling his Marked hand on the side of his neck, pressing the pad of his thumb lightly over his pulse. “Tell me to kiss you again,” he says reverently. His Mark is glowing bright with purple light, rippling with energy beneath his skin.

“Corvo.” The Outsider tightens his hands in his bedsheets, a flush starting to warm his pale cheeks, highlighting his gaunt cheekbones. “Fetch me my food and then we will see.”

Corvo smiles to himself. The Outsider will continue to deny him, but he can no longer hide his feelings. His body betrays him with the way his breath grows short at Corvo’s touch or how his heart quickens under the pad of his thumb. He paces over to the bathroom to toss the damp towel into the laundry basket before he exits his bedroom to the hallway to call for a servant.

Corvo politely asks for a meal to be brought to their room. He orders chicken soup with apricot tarts and warm honey milk for the Outsider and some simple bread and cheese slices for himself. When he steps back into the room, the Outsider is standing by his table, one of Corvo’s letters in his hands.

“You said you wouldn’t snoop,” Corvo says. He is not mad at all for the intrusion, but the Outsider seems to think he is. He whirls around, brow furrowed, mouth set in an angry line, defensive.

“And you truly think I have the willpower of a god when it comes to you,” he snaps at Corvo, flustered and upset. “Corvo, it has never been _easy_. I am not— I cannot let the Cultists take— take _this_ from me too,” he presses a hand to his chest briefly before dropping it back down to his side, “but letting you steal it from me is also—” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, the hand not clutching the letter coiling into a fist. “Corvo.”

Corvo approaches him slowly, hands held out coaxingly. “If you’ve read the letter, then you know I am turning him down.”

“He is… He is not a bad fit for you,” the Outsider says quietly. “Far less complicated.”

Corvo touches his arm, squeezes it. The Outsider’s body really is solid, firm under his grip, warm beneath his clothing. He will be human after all, won’t he?

“Tell me your name,” Corvo pleads, voice soft. When the Outsider looks up at him, his eyes look as lost as Corvo feels. “Tell me your name, the one the Cultists took from you. Tell me what you want.”

The Outsider’s green eyes, white sclera, so much more expressive. He looks remorseful, lonely, and desperate.

“Corvo, I want for so much and I…,” He looks torn for a moment on how to feel before he quietly looks away. “My dearly beloved, it is not meant for anyone’s ears. It is in a language lost through time— violently cut from me. Only the dead can speak it.” He reaches up and takes Corvo’s hand on his arm into his own hand, raising it up to press his lips to the Mark. “You already know what it is, even if neither of us can say it aloud.”

Corvo stares as the Outsider kisses his hand again. “The Mark? It is…?”

The Outsider smiles, eyes wrinkling at the corners. There is still something sad in his gaze, but now it is warm too, fond, hopeful. Corvo wants him to always look like that. Like he’s looking towards the future.

“Yes, dear Corvo, you already wear my name as a brand on your flesh.” He squeezes Corvo’s hand, twining their fingers together. “Perhaps it would be more romantic if it weren’t for the fact that you share this Mark with now… four remaining people in the world. So many have been lost to time and unfortunate circumstances. Granny Rags, the Lonely Rat Boy, and a few others….”

Corvo laughs. He feels a little giddy, light-headed. A revelation he will treasure. “Outsider,” he murmurs, reverent, “tell me to kiss you.”

The Outsider’s hand curls around his own tighter. “Not yet, dear Corvo.” His fingers brush over the Mark, sending a flare of energy through it, a flash of radiant black-purple light and white-hot heat through his skin. “In two weeks, there will be a banquet. Though it was years and years ago, beloved, I have never forgotten your request.”

“You’ll dance with me?”

“Yes.” The Outsider scrapes a blunt fingernail over the Mark, sending a burst of heat down his spine. Corvo shivers. “And there, the nobility will get the answer they so desperately crave. Those betting rings will finally have their payouts. You want them to know you’re mine and I am yours, and so, they will.”

Corvo opens his mouth to answer him, but he is interrupted by a polite knock at the door, followed by a servant informing them their food has arrived. The Outsider lets go of his hand slowly and Corvo smiles at him as he pulls away to answer the door.

He takes the food tray from the servant at the door, and he does not miss the way the servant’s gaze strays into the depths of the room, to try and figure out what's going on. The Outsider probably realizes this so he coughs a little and sniffles. To his credit, he does actually sound like he's sick. Corvo can hear him shuffling around like he's dragging his feet.

“He’s delicate,” Corvo says to the servant, smiling.

“I am not _delicate_ , Corvo,” the Outsider replies petulantly with another sniffle. “Just bring the chicken soup in already.”

Corvo chuckles to himself at that, earning a surprised and flustered look from the servant before they quickly excuse themself.

He and Corvo clear off the desk, pushing the papers to the side to make room for their food. The Outsider frowns at the bowl of chicken soup Corvo hands him.

“This is swill,” he says, reaching instead for the plate of apricot tarts.

Corvo grabs him by the wrist, laughing as he shakes his head. “No, finish your soup. You say you are not sick, but it is better to be safe than sorry.”

The Outsider makes a face at him, but Corvo only finds it endearing. He starts tearing a piece of his bread to eat with the cheese slices, content with its simplicity.

“I think I like hearing that,” the Outsider says after a moment, “Your laugh.” His gaze is distant, unfocused and thoughtful. “I never envisioned an easy life for you, even after the Rat Plague was resolved. And I could not see your future.”

Corvo hums, chewing quietly around his food. He tears off another piece of bread. “And so, you hoped I would be happy?”

“Of course,” he answers, surprising Corvo with his honesty. “You were… always special, dear one.” He looks up and meets Corvo’s gaze before looking away, almost shy. “I was never fully impartial when it came to you.”

Corvo does not know how to answer, but then he thinks, it's not as though he needs to for the Outsider to understand what it means to Corvo to hear him say that.

They eat together quietly, and the Outsider’s feet brush against his legs. He’s barefoot, Corvo realizes, as he curls his toes along the fabric of Corvo’s slacks. He swipes his toe over his bare ankle. His skin is warm. The Outsider acts like nothing is amiss at all as he sips at his chicken soup slowly. The tips of his ears, almost fully hidden by his fluffy hair, are pink though, and Corvo cannot recall the last time he has felt so fond.

Corvo presses his own foot over the Outsider’s, smiling, “Do you always eat so slow?”

“Maybe I want to savor the time I have with you.”

“I think you just don't like the soup.”

The Outsider huffs, “It isn't suited to my palate, you knew as much, my love.”

He frowns down at his bowl of soup, which is still mostly full. He’s only been drinking small sips from the broth, and avoiding the meat and vegetables. Corvo hesitates for a moment before he reaches over, curling his fingers around the Outsider’s on his spoon.

“Allow me?” he asks softly, and his voice comes out quieter and rougher than he expects.

The Outsider pulls his fingers from beneath his, letting Corvo grip the spoon to feed him. The god watches him as he leans down to close his mouth around the spoon and sip at the soup. He wrinkles his nose as he works his throat in a swallow.

“Corvo, my dear, I’m afraid no amount of cajoling will make me want to finish this.”

Corvo sighs, but he takes the bowl from him to place on his side of the table. He doesn't want to waste the food after all. He hands over the plate of pastries to trade. The Outsider’s eyes light up in interest as he swipes the plate from Corvo. He rips the tart open, letting it ooze out the soft apricot filling so he can nibble at it. Corvo wonders if he's doing it on purpose as he eats messily, licking his lips and sucking innocently on his sugared sticky fingers. He scrapes his lower teeth along the underside of a finger, collecting the honey along his skin. Corvo doesn't miss how he notices that he is watching him.

The Outsider finishes the last of his pastries, seeming content. There's a pause as he starts to wipe his fingers on the napkins. “Come to bed with me, Corvo. I…,” the Outsider pauses, clears his throat and looks away. “I mean only to sleep.”

Corvo likes that idea.

The Outsider slips away to go to his adjoined bathroom to wash his hands while Corvo finishes his soup. He puts all the plates back on the tray and cleans up and wipes the table down. He's lost in his thoughts, recounting the day and the news he's gotten from his sources about the state of Dunwall. He's interrupted by the Outsider pressing a warm hand to the back of his neck, fingers brushing against his curls.

“Corvo, beloved, always such a hard worker. Come to bed. It's time to rest.”

The Outsider slides his hand down along his arm, fingers dancing down his sleeve until he sweeps them over his hand. Corvo takes his hand in his own, squeezing it. The Outsider smiles at him, a serene and pleased expression on his face. He tugs on his hand gently, turning to face him as he backs up towards the bed, pulling Corvo with him.

The backs of his knees bump against the edge of his bed. He pulls Corvo until his body is flush against his, one leg slipped between the Outsider’s, crowding against him. Corvo presses his free hand to his waist as the Outsider squeezes his other hand. The god noses at Corvo’s forehead, smiling, before he sits down on the bed and swiftly tugs Corvo with him.

Corvo catches himself on one hand, bracing his body so he doesn't drop his full weight on the Outsider. The god is still smiling, mischievous as he wriggles around, scooting up further into the bed. Corvo climbs up with him and they maneuver until they’re lying properly on the center of the bed, Corvo still hovering above him, their hands still linked.

The Outsider’s body is warm beneath his own. He keeps his other forearm braced by his head, leaning down until he can feel the Outsider’s breath ghosting along his jaw. “You are a cruel god, teasing me like this.”

The Outsider smiles as he cups Corvo’s face in his free hand, thumb stroking over the edges of his beard. “Patience, dear Corvo. I will not let you have me until the banquet.” He chuckles, tracing his fingers over Corvo’s lips and then his Adam’s Apple and then pressing his palm over his heart. “Think of it as our nuptials.”

Corvo sighs, moving to lay down by his side, their interlocked hands resting now on the Outsider’s chest. He turns his head to look at Corvo, smiling with something not unlike wonder in his green eyes. Corvo feels his heart swell and he looks away to reach for the blankets, tugging it over himself and the Outsider. The god takes this chance to slip closer, pressing himself flush against Corvo’s body again, head tucked under his jaw. He’s taller than Corvo, so he has to curl his knees so his feet don't hang over the edge of the bed. Their hands are still clasped together, positioned awkwardly between both their chests now. The Outsider presses his free hand to Corvo’s waist, fingers dancing over the waistband of his slacks. His body is so warm, Corvo marvels. He recalls when the god used to be icy to the touch, even after taking a human visage. He wraps his free arm around his waist, hugging him closer. The Outsider makes a soft, pleased noise.

“What a scandal,” he breathes, laughing into the hollows of Corvo’s throat. “The Royal Protector never left the Royal Spymaster’s chambers last night, and when he returned to his room in the morning, his clothes were all rumpled. What indecency.”

Corvo presses a kiss into his fluffy hair, smiling. “Good night, Outsider.”

The Outsider’s lips graze against his neck, pressing briefly over his pulse. “Good night, dear Corvo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	9. the banquet: redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so they find themselves here, pushing and pulling, bare breaths away from a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo there's a joke about morgan yu in here who if you didn't know is the protagonist of prey another game made by arkane studios!  
> if u pick a male morgan yu he looks a lot like corvo and that's it. that's the joke. thanks for coming to my stand up routine.

Corvo wakes with the Outsider’s black hair tickling at his face and his arm slung around his waist, tucking him against him. His back is pressed to Corvo’s chest. He presses a kiss into his hair, feeling overwhelmed with fondness. The Outsider is still asleep in his arms, only making a quiet noise when he nuzzles into his pillow further. The bed smells like him, Corvo realizes, the faintest scent of the ocean breeze mixed with a soft sweet scent like one of the pastries he likes that Corvo can't remember.

Corvo squeezes his waist slightly, hugging him firmer. The Outsider used to be monstrous, skin shifting opacity, shark teeth, the sound of bonecharm songs and hisses always at the back of his throat like a hum. He used to hold himself aloft, out of reach from Corvo. And then, gradually, he would set foot on the ground, dig his heels into the earth. Then, he grew warm from the icy coldness that used to pervade his skin and his eyes are green more often now than they are pitch black.

The Outsider turns his face into the pillow. “My dear, your mind is so loud.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” The Outsider turns in his arms and his nose bumps against Corvo’s cheek. “Did you have good dreams?” he asks knowingly, a sly smile curling his lips as he strokes Corvo’s jaw.

He’s bare breaths away from him, and Corvo can see how his lips are a little chapped, and his eyes are very, very bright. The Outsider nudges a leg in between his knees, a thigh dangerously close to Corvo’s semi-hard cock. Admittedly, he did have the… start of a dream, the Outsider sitting on the desk and Corvo spreading his thighs apart and palming at them as he leaned in to kiss him. But the Outsider had turned his face at the last second so Corvo’s lips landed on his jaw as he pressed coy fingers near the button to Corvo’s slacks.

“You are a tease, even in your dreams.”

The Outsider’s throat works in a swallow, the edge of a pink tongue flicking out to lick his lips as he leans closer. He presses a finger to Corvo’s lips, eyes bright, pupils dilating. “So close, beloved. In two weeks, we’ll both get our answers.”

Corvo huffs, smiling as he turns from the god, and rolls out of bed. He stretches his arms above his head and rolls his shoulders, feeling the Outsider’s gaze on him and smiling to himself.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The guards in the room make an attempt at remaining straight-faced when Corvo and the Outsider enter the meeting room together, shoulder to shoulder.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Emily shoots Corvo an amused look when she sees him without the Outsider.

“I thought you were attached at the hip, Father.”

“Don't tease.”

She pats his shoulder, looking happy when she smiles and squeezes his arm. “It’s payback for Wyman. I must defend their dignity and fight for their honor somehow.”  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
A week passes quickly. There’s one more week left until the banquet, a royal holiday feast dedicated to the memory of monarchs past in Dunwall. It used to be a somber occasion, but now it is a celebration of how long the Isles have been thriving. Corvo is doing a final check of the guest list with Emily just to ease his mind that there are no unsavory guests.

His eyes rove over the surnames of noble families. He recognizes the majority of them; they’re either families that are closely associated with the court, or they are families that have been getting back onto their feet after the Rat Plague or after they lost… family members to the Knife of Dunwall.

Corvo has left the Whalers alone. Daud did indeed disappear from Dunwall shortly after their confrontation, leaving the Whalers leaderless. They were still active a short while afterwards, but Corvo was too busy picking up the pieces of a broken city and putting them back together to be concerned. By the time Emily was firmly reestablished a year or so later, the Whalers were disjointed, more so a gang than an organization of assassins. He knows they aren't all a bad bunch, so he's left them mostly alone, especially since most of them don't kill for money anymore.

“What a fearsome expression, Father,” Emily teases, prodding his shoulder.

Corvo realizes he's been frowning intently at the guest list and looks up, relaxing. “Sorry, I've had a lot on my mind.”

“Are you worried about the Whalers?” Emily sits down on the edge of the desk.

The Outsider recently told them that the Whalers were starting to show movement again, though nothing substantial. Corvo does not think they would try anything again after over a decade of silence. And it is not as though Daud is coming back to Dunwall. The Outsider has not spoken about the assassin for a long time.

Corvo hums to himself, sweeping his fingers over the guest list to smooth it out. “It's my job to worry, is all."

Emily sighs before she leans forward, tapping her fingers to the wood table. “To distract you, dear Father, you’ll want to know a discovery I’ve made.”

She is endlessly amused when she informs Corvo how she’s recently heard about a Serkonian scientist by the name of Morgan Yu, a man with striking similarity to Corvo himself.

“Why is it funny?”

Emily giggles, “Oh, I couldn’t tell you. Just the idea of a man out there looking like you but instead living as a mild mannered, quiet scientist instead of a thrill seeking, devoted bodyguard is funny to me.”

“I am not thrill seeking,” he counters, to no avail as Emily keeps laughing. “I’m glad you’re amused,” he says, voice flat even as he smiles.

Emily grins, hiding it behind her fingers. “Oh, I am, dear Father. I invited him to the banquet. It’ll be fun to meet him.”

Corvo’s eyes widen.

She snickers. “Well now, how will the Outsider deal with two of you?” She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t answer that. I already hear enough gossip about what the two of you get up to.”

Corvo feels his cheeks flush. “None of it is true, you know.”

Emily shoots him an unconvinced look as she hops off the table. She swipes the guest list from Corvo, holding it up between two fingers smugly. “No more worrying, Father. It's out of your hands now.”  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider hums as he materializes in Corvo’s room, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He cocks his head, smiling.

“Hello, beloved. I do hope you’ve got proper attire for the banquet.”

“I don't much like going to the tailor’s,” Corvo admits. He plucks an older, slim suit. He’s not sure he’ll fit into it; admittedly, he’s gotten a little softer around the middle. “The process to get fitted is tedious.”

The Outsider presses a finger to his lip, lips curling up in a suggestive smile. “Do you want me to take your measurements?”

Corvo huffs, putting the suit back into the closet. “I think,” he says, looking over at him pointedly, “you’d get distracted.”

The Outsider chuckles. “Beloved, all jokes aside, I do wish to see you in your best dressed.” Corvo blinks and then the Outsider is in front of him, pressing a finger to his chest. “I want to enjoy this,” he breathes, curling his hand in Corvo’s jacket lapel and pulling it open just barely to reveal his inner shirt. “Savor it. Don’t you, my love?”

Corvo clasps his hand over the Outsider’s. “You’ve gotten… audacious,” he says, clearing his throat. He’s certain the god must be aware of how his heart has quickened at the suggestive undertones in his voice, how his eyes rove over Corvo’s body appreciatively, full of intent.

The Outsider curls both hands on his waist, smug and mischievous. He clicks his tongue. His body starts to fade, the smell of smoke and the ocean starting to fill the room.

“You will see me in nothing less than my finest, dear Corvo.”

  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Royal Protector Corvo Attano has only ever danced with two people after Jessamine’s death: his daughter, Emily Kaldwin the First, the Empress of the Isles and Esma Boyle.

He does not accept invitations to dance because he does not want to suggest favor to any particular family, and he certainly does not want to insinuate he reciprocates any of his suitors’ affections. Of course, he could dance to be courteous, but he refuses as a matter of principle. He does enjoy dancing, but he dislikes the spectacle that it often is.

Aside from everything with the Outsider… Corvo has long kept to the shadows, away from courtly gossip and public affair— out of sight, out of mind. He wants to be Emily’s watchful protector, and that is best done when no one can speculate where his attentions lie.

Emily has pointed out more than once that he’s uncharacteristically enjoying the gossip surrounding him and the Royal Spymaster, and he can find nothing to defend himself with. It is all true.

He worries over his cufflinks as he enters the court ballroom with Emily a few steps ahead of him. He is wearing a dark suit, a darker navy than he normally does, and it is more tightly fitted, complimenting his figure well, even with his now chubby stomach. It has been creased to look sharp and stylish in all the right places. He is not often a man concerned with appearance, but he has fussed over his hair this morning, ensuring the curls are not messy, and grooming his beard with a comb and soft-scented oil. He felt like he was preening when he looked over himself in the mirror, finally content with his appearance.

The Outsider is already in the room, standing attentively at his station on the left side of the throne. He looks up when he sees Corvo enter, a warm smile curling his lips. He looks good— beautiful. His hair is not as fluffy as it normally is, tempered a bit, better combed, bangs tickling at his forehead. He is wearing a rich, black suit, made of the darkest material Corvo has seen yet. It’s high collared like normal, but hugging tight to his neck with a slight flare, framing his sharp jawline. There are soft silk frills in the front and the suit hugs tight on his waist and hips. His slacks are also slim, closing narrow around his ankles. It’s a fancy and much cleaner look than Corvo is used to, and he can’t help but stare. The Outsider’s smile turns smug, as if he is pleased he has captured Corvo’s attention so well.

They cannot dance yet though— but that will come soon.

Banquets often start with Emily dancing first with him or Wyman. She usually chooses to dance with Corvo first, joking that if she picks Wyman first, she will end up dancing three or four and get carried away. She laughs when she dances, and it makes Corvo smile. He’s glad that even with everything with the coup so many years ago, Emily gets a peaceful reign and happiness after all.

Corvo swings her around the dance floor, and he does not miss the men and women alike who approach the Outsider meanwhile, asking for his hand to dance. The Outsider flashes his teeth at them, pearly whites, sharp incisors, mouth curled in a wicked, smug smile as he politely turns them down one after the other.

Emily snorts, squeezing Corvo’s hand to get his attention. “Father, please, don’t you think you owe me _at least_ eighty percent of your attention?”

Corvo smiles at her, apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course,” she smiles, mischievous, “Are we still going on that picnic in a week? Or has the Spymaster ensnared you so deeply in his clutches that I won’t be able to steal you away for even a day?”

Corvo feels his cheeks flush slightly. He is still not used to Emily teasing him and he supposes she has not seen him in love since Jessamine, so she is equal parts happy and amused. “We will go,” he assures her. “You jest, but I do have free will still.”

“Mmhm.”

She bows theatrically to him when the song ends. Corvo walks back to the throne with her where the Outsider and Wyman are standing nearby, talking. The Outsider likes Wyman; there are few who don’t. The noble is an upstanding individual, kind hearted but quick witted with a sharp tongue. He chuckles at a joke the noble tells, hand covering his mouth. His lips, for once, don’t look chapped. Corvo is running out of patience.

The Outsider looks over on cue, as if he can tell how Corvo is burning under his skin, how his Mark feels like there’s electricity coursing through it. His eyes crinkle at the corners just barely as he smiles.

Emily saunters closer, winking at Wyman who smiles back at her, but then she turns to the Outsider, offering her hand to him, palm facing downwards. “Dance with me, won’t you?”

The Outsider’s eyebrows raise just barely in surprise before he’s smiling enigmatically. He takes her hand, raising it up to kiss the back of her hand. “Gladly, my Empress.”

She rolls her eyes, but smirks as she tugs him to follow her, clearly intent on leading the dance. Corvo watches as they sweep onto the dance floor, the crowd parting for them, their gaze falling on them in interest. The Outsider is a graceful dancer, on par with Emily. Emily has loved dancing since she was a child; quick on her feet and elegant— which was useful for when he began training her in the ways of combat and subterfuge.

Corvo is so caught up in watching them that he does not notice Esma approaching him until she presses a hand to his forearm, sliding her arm between his elbow and body.

She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Hello, Corvo, were you staring at your daughter or the Royal Spymaster?” she teases.

Corvo chuckles, pressing a hand over hers where it’s gripping his elbow. “It is my job to watch, Esma.”

“And it’s _my_ job to get all the gossip,” Esma answers, snickering. She slides her hand down to clasp over his. “Come now, Corvo. I haven’t seen you in a very long time. Let’s catch up over a dance or two.”

He is weak for her. The Boyle Sisters have always been on good terms with him since everything that happened, but Esma in particular took well to him. He helped in the years afterwards to clean up her act and stop drinking. Now, she is a successful entrepreneur while Lydia is a professional musician and Waverly manages the Boyle Estate and coordinates charity efforts with the throne.

“An old flame?” she asks, eyelashes flaring and brown eyes coy as she dances with him. “Tell me, Corvo.”

“An old friend.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Her gaze flickers over to Miss White when the noblewoman passes by. She has always been soft on Miss White, a lonely woman with a loose tongue who has since matured as well, attending far less parties and instead working with the court on developing trade routes between the Isles.

“She is so beautiful tonight,” Esma murmurs, eyes following how Miss White’s short platinum blonde hair curls along her jaw as she moves. “Well. She is always beautiful. We’ll be going out for a date later this week, you know. I do so adore her.”

Corvo smiles, twirling her. “It’s good your courtship with her is going well.”

Esma huffs, brushing a stray lock of brown hair out of her eyes. “I _think_ it’s going well. She thinks because I’ve such a reputation of being a flirt that I don’t mean what I say to her.” Her gaze flickers over to Miss White again. “But I mean every word.”

“You should dance with her,” Corvo says.

Esma shoots him with an incredulous look. “Surely not,” she scolds, her brow furrowing and cheeks flushing. “She was hesitant enough to agree to go on a date with me later this week. I do not want to be too brazen with her.”

Corvo hums. “She is never looking when you look at her and you are never looking when she looks at you.”

Esma’s eyes widen. “You don’t mean that,” she whispers, voice soft, hopeful.

He smiles at her. She stares at him for a moment longer before turning to look over her shoulder, this time locking eyes with Miss White. The other noblewoman flusters, lifting a white gloved hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, dropping her gaze. Esma turns back to him, cheeks flushed warm, looking happy.

“You’re lovely, you know, Corvo,” she murmurs, pulling close as the dance ends to hug him tightly. “I’m going to go dance with her.”

He watches as the song ends and Esma hurries over, offering her hand, asking for a dance and Miss White shyly accepts, smiling and pink cheeked. He weaves through the crowd to return to the throne. The Outsider has already finished his dance with Emily. He’s standing tall and straight-backed with his hands tucked behind him. He tilts his head when Corvo approaches, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, beloved,” he says, voice quiet enough that only he can hear him. “My dear Corvo.”

Corvo comes to a stop in front of him. “Tethys.” He straightens his back as he offers his hand to the Outsider, palm upwards. He tucks the other hand behind his back and bows, feeling a smile curl on his lips. “May I have this dance?”

“What a gentleman,” the Outsider teases, pressing fingers to his lips thoughtfully before taking his hand with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i love esma boyle and miss white and they're in love w/ each other (harold they're lesbians)
> 
> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	10. you must first create the universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a dance finally occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here comes the morgan yu joke fkjdklsfkdl  
> anyway i hope the buildup to this chapter so far has been exciting!!! there's still a little bit more to come so be patient! thank you so much for your support every kudos, comment, and bookmark means the world to me

“Hello, beloved,” he says, voice quiet enough that only he can hear him. “My dear Corvo.”

Corvo comes to a stop in front of him. “Tethys.” He straightens his back as he offers his hand to the Outsider, palm upwards. He tucks the other hand behind his back and bows, feeling a smile curl on his lips. “May I have this dance?”

“What a gentleman,” the Outsider teases, pressing fingers to his lips thoughtfully before taking his hand with the other.

He squeezes Corvo’s hand gently and lets him lead him down the stairs like a consort. He looks beautiful and Corvo wants desperately to kiss him and hold his hips in his hands, but he can be patient and he can wait.

There are, of course, people who notice immediately. And it is Corvo’s job to watch and listen.

The Royal Protector has turned down every offer to dance for years… he even turned down the Tyvian suitors, especially that noble who was enamored with him. He’s already danced with Esma Boyle— she is dancing with Lady White now, the lovebirds. And Corvo offers his hand first? Really, so the rumors were true, Tethys Lotan must be an old flame. The servants say he is attached at the hip to the other man. Has he been seduced? Though it is hard to blame him; the Royal Spymaster really is beautiful.

The crowd parts for him when they reach the bottom of the throne stairs, curious eyes and murmured whispers. When Corvo blinks, he sees the Void beneath his eyelids and when he breathes, it smells of the ocean breeze. He shifts to stand next to the Outsider, letting go of his hand to tuck his hand on the small of his back, ushering him forward.

The Outsider chuckles, a pretty little sound, and turns his head to Corvo. “Your fingers are warm to the touch, even through the layers of clothing, my dear,” he says, quietly enough that only Corvo can hear him.

They make it to an open space on the dance floor as the song ends. The dancers all shuffle away, looking for new partners. Corvo drops his hand from the small of his back to take a few steps back from him, offering his hand again. The Outsider smiles, eyelashes flaring. He looks like a doll, dainty, pretty green eyes, sharp nose and sharper cheekbones. He takes Corvo’s hand and makes a small noise of surprise when Corvo tugs him forward abruptly, tugging him so that he’s pressed chest to chest to Corvo.

“Corvo,” he says, and it sounds a little breathless, startled. He presses his other hand to Corvo’s shoulder while he curls his own hand on the Outsider’s waist. His voice is soft and fond. “Dear beloved Corvo.”

They start to shuffle together, not so much dancing traditionally as they are holding each other tightly and swaying. Corvo can feel how the Outsider’s heart thuds beneath his ribcage, resonating against Corvo’s own chest. He feels dizzy with desire, with the Outsider pressed so close and all eyes on them. Corvo dares to slide his hand from his waist to his hip, curling his fingers just barely over the curve of his ass. The Outsider breathes out, harsh, against his ear. He kisses at Corvo’s temple, nuzzles his curls a little, and murmurs Corvo’s name in an adoring voice.

Corvo’s hands are clammy, and he is quickly getting turned on by the soft noises the Outsider makes as they sway together.

“Kiss me, Corvo,” the Outsider finally says, pulling his hand from his shoulder to cup against Corvo’s jaw, thumb stroking along his beard. “Kiss me in front of this crowd, like you have desired to for all these years.”

So Corvo kisses him.

Corvo has to lean up to press his lips to the Outsider’s. It’s clumsy at first, his mouth smashing against the deity’s, but the Outsider cups his jaw and tilts his head, opening his mouth for Corvo to taste. He sweeps his tongue along the Outsider’s lower lip, tastes a sweet chapstick coating it, and then sinks his tongue inside his mouth. The Outsider makes a muffled noise into his mouth, something between a moan and a sigh. He lets go of Corvo’s hand to wrap his arm around the back of his neck, holding him tighter, fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

Corvo doesn’t know what he expected, but it’s better. The Outsider’s mouth is soft and open, willing and eager, as he kisses Corvo back. He is inexperienced and kisses clumsily, a little too fast, moving too much, but Corvo doesn’t care. He sweeps his tongue across his teeth and slows the pace down. The Outsider tugs on the hair at the nape of his neck harder, chest pressing firmer against his own body. Corvo sucks on his lower lip, catching it with his teeth as he finally pulls away.

The Outsider’s eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed pink, and lips red and slick as he rubs his thumb along Corvo’s cheek. “Dearly beloved…”

There are some nobles nearby who cough and clear their throats, clapping politely. Corvo feels a flush rise to his cheeks now that he is aware of how they have captured the attention of the whole court. Someone says “pay up” in the background. He’s faintly aware of some congratulations thrown their way. There’s a whole array of expressions, he recognizes some disappointed suitors, some excited gossipers giggling, and some smug aristocrats probably ready to collect their bet money.

The song is ending, but Corvo feels giddy even in his embarrassment, and he does not want to stop dancing yet.

“Another?”

The Outsider smiles, fingers gentle when they sweep from his jaw to his neck, trailing over his pulse. “For you, dear Corvo? Anything.”

They do dance this time, actually. Corvo moves his hand from the curve of the Outsider’s ass to a more modest place on his hip again. Even though he has just seen how gracefully the Outsider danced with Emily, it is different when he is experiencing it himself. The Outsider dances as well as Corvo personally remembers from their last dance over a decade ago. The god sweeps around with an otherworldly, feline grace to his footsteps.

Corvo is— happy. Immensely, he realizes now. This must have been what Emily meant when she said she wished to see him as happy as when he was with Jessamine. If he’s honest, it’s a little embarrassing to be a middle-aged father in his fifties who is completely smitten, adoring someone and weak for them in ways not unlike young, reckless love. He leans close and the Outsider makes a soft noise of surprise when Corvo kisses at the corner of his mouth, gentle.

“I am weak for you, it seems.”

“Are you?” the Outsider’s voice is filled with warm amusement, “I’m so lucky then, to have the attentions of the well sought after and oft-courted Royal Protector. Perhaps I’ll keep him all to myself.”

Corvo presses his forehead to the Outsider’s, closing his eyes as he starts swaying with him. The god makes another pleased noise. They sweep across the dance floor for another two dances before the Outsider presses close and says that’s enough for now, Emily is waiting for him. Corvo keeps his fingers twined with the Outsider’s as they make their way back to the throne, where Emily is standing talking to some of the guests. The aristocrats politely excuse themselves to the Empress and back away when they see Corvo and the Outsider approach.

She watches them with amusement as they come closer. “Congratulations,” she says wryly. Corvo expects her to say something else scathing or witty, but she claps her hands together instead. She smiles and tilts her head in a way that can only spell trouble. “Now that you’re done causing a scene,” Emily says cheerfully, “Come meet Morgan Yu. He could be your twin! He looks so much like you.”

The Outsider’s eyes seem to glow with interest. Corvo cannot imagine that this is news to him.

Emily leads them to a quieter corner of the room where a middle-aged black-haired man is standing with a glass of whiskey in one hand while he talks politely with a group of natural philosophists. He looks up when Emily approaches, turning his face into full view. Corvo can— Corvo can see why she has been so amused. He does look like him, albeit a tad more youthful, more black in his slightly longer hair than silver, and his beard more closely trimmed.

The Outsider looks positively intrigued beside him, fingers pressed to his lips as he roves his eyes over the other man appreciatively. “Well, now I see the Empress wasn’t lying, was she?”

Did he really not know about Morgan Yu?

The scientist holds out his free hand politely to Corvo first. Surly type, quiet. He takes his hand, pleasantly surprised when the man gives him a firm, warm handshake. Reluctantly, he has to let go of the Outsider’s right hand when he offers his hand to the deity. The Outsider squeezes his hand tightly, probably displaying his unexpected strength, because Morgan looks surprised.

Emily looks very pleased all the while. “He will be staying for awhile after the banquet to talk about medicinal advancements with our natural philosophers. After that, he’ll be heading back to the Addermire Institute to work with Dr. Hypatia.”

“Alexandria Hypatia… Sokolov’s student, isn't she?” the Outsider says, his nose wrinkling just barely.

Corvo has to bite back a smile. The Outsider does not like Sokolov. The man moved to Serkonos after curing the Rat Plague with Piero Joplin, but he did come back for a short while to visit. When he had, he had offered to give the new Spymaster a portrait to commemorate the occasion. The Outsider had turned up his nose at him, later telling Corvo that Sokolov might paint something too close to his existing paintings of the Outsider and besides— he hates the man.

The Outsider and Morgan converse for a short while. The man is one of few words, but he manages a polite conversation. The god seems positively intrigued by the other man, challenging him with difficult questions about natural philosophy and other sciences. Corvo shifts on his feet and presses a hand to the small of his back. Emily shoots him a knowing look and he looks away.

The Outsider seems content finally after a while, humming when he thanks Morgan for his time. He turns back to Corvo, smiling sweetly. “Well dear, do you want to get something to drink? I heard the Empress has brought out the best dessert wine for the occasion,” he says slyly.

Emily watches in amusement as Corvo and Morgan say goodbye to each other. The Outsider has wandered off ahead towards the tables first and Corvo trails after him, using long strides to catch up. He meets the Outsider near one of the banquet tables. A servant has already poured him a glass of dessert wine.

“Now I’ve met the second most beautiful man in the world,” the Outsider jokes, swirling the wine in his glass, shooting Corvo a side glance and a smile. “He has longer eyelashes than you. Very pretty. Shapely hips.”

“Did you really not know of him?” Corvo asks, genuinely curious.

The Outsider hums, and he leans close to say his next words, “Contrary to popular opinion, Corvo, I am not actually omniscient… my attention flickers. I occasionally survey the world around me and pick a scene to focus on. Nothing of note has occurred in Serkonos and so, I have not ever looked in Morgan Yu’s direction.”

“Are you attracted to him because you like older men or are you attracted to him because he looks like me?”

The Outsider pauses before clicking his tongue. “Does everything have to have an answer, my dear?”

He sweeps to the side of the room, tucking behind a pillar where it’s quieter and more private, beckoning behind him for Corvo to follow. The Outsider leans against the pillar and takes a sip of his wine.

“He does look a lot like you,” the Outsider concedes, “but he isn’t you.” He hums, smiling, something wicked and amused glimmering in his eyes. “Morgan Yu isn’t a threat. But whatever will you do if I do ever find favor in someone else, dear Corvo?”

Corvo knows he’s goading him, but he can’t help but take the bait. He presses close, placing his forearm by the Outsider’s head, crowding him against the pillar. “You could try sleeping with other men, but you’ll always be thinking of me when you do it,” he says, voice low, almost a growl. He can’t help the possessiveness that comes over him as he breathes out his next words, “You’ll wish it was me instead as they touched you. You might even call out my name.”

The Outsider’s mouth falls open in surprise and Corvo feels smug when the barest hint of a flush rises to his cheeks. The god squirms.

“Brazen,” he admonishes, but his voice is soft, flustered.

“But I know I am not wrong,” Corvo replies, feeling a cocky smile curl his lips. “Tell me. Am I wrong?”

The Outsider licks his lips, presses closer to him. “I will not let you corner me like this, beloved. If I show all my cards, you will win,” he whispers, bare breaths from Corvo’s mouth.

“You’ve already won,” Corvo tells him softly.

"Tell me what you want from me," the Outsider says, something desperate in his voice. He reaches up, strokes his fingers over his jaw. "What do you want? Tell me, Corvo."

Corvo takes his hand in his own, turning his face to press a kiss to his fingertips. "Your time, as much as you're willing to grant me."

The Outsider is silent as Corvo kisses each individual fingertip, his wrapped hand squeezing the Outsider's gently. "I'll be here for the foreseeable future," he says after a long while, pulling his hand away. He drops it to his side, clenches it tight and then flexes his fingers as he looks away. He says next, softly, without bite, "You are a snake, Corvo, come to bring me ruin."

Corvo grins, "You may accuse me of anything you wish.”

It is quieter here, more private, but not completely away from prying eyes. Corvo is aware of the eyes on them, noting how he is pressing the Outsider to the wall, possessive and on the brink of indecency here. He feels the Outsider shift his hips forward to bump against him, and the god’s green eyes are bright as he licks his lips.

“Your indecent, lewd thoughts are all there on the surface, my dear,” he breathes.

Corvo laughs, a short, breathless sound. “Come dance with me another.” His gaze flickers over to the glass of wine the Outsider is still holding. He has taken perhaps two or three sips from it, not much. “You’re not drunk, are you?”

“Only drunk off your desire,” the Outsider snickers, pressing his free hand to Corvo’s hip. “No, I’ve barely had time to savor this dessert wine before you came around looking like you wished to drink directly from my mouth.”

Corvo rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. It's good to see the Outsider being playful. With his heart thudding in his ears, he pulls away from him, offering his hand and bowing again. The Outsider smiles, taking his hand. He drops off his wine on a tray as they make their way to the dance floor again.

This one is faster paced, and the Outsider is pressed flush against him again. They move with their bodies together to quick tempo, and Corvo is finding it increasingly hard to stay focused when he is pressed so close he can smell him; the familiar scent of smoke, the ocean, and sugar. The Outsider’s mouth is next to his ear, panting heated breaths against his skin, fluffing through his curls.

He cannot imagine how many jokes and rumors there will be tomorrow about how indecent the Royal Protector is.

The night is still young and the banquet will still go for hours more, but Corvo is too impatient to wait out for the end of the celebration. He has placed nasty traps for any accessways he himself can access into the castle, so he is sure the party is secure. Emily should be in no danger, and he’s certain that if the Outsider had even a shadow of a doubt that she was, he would've informed Corvo already.

The Outsider murmurs an adoration in his ear at the end of the dance, and though Corvo has swayed between being patient and being selfish throughout the night, he thinks he has reached a peak of selfish desire now. He has waited thirteen years now in total, twelve in absence of the god and then one year of torturous flirting and teasing. He has waited long enough and he thinks the Outsider is inclined to agree.

He takes the deity back to his room and he barely manages to shut the door behind him and lock it before the Outsider is upon him. He shoves him back against the door, demonstrating his rarely used strength. Corvo can't help the shiver that ripples down his spine as the Outsider crowds closer.

“Corvo,” he breathes, voice rough and breath short, “take me to bed, beloved. Make me yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;3c
> 
> more this weekend~


	11. lavender, gunpowder, seasalt, the ocean breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You want me to wax poetic, talk about scents as if we are in a romance novel.” The Outsider stretches, arching his back and smiling, “But if you must know, you smell faintly of the scented lavender candles you burn in here. A hint of gunpowder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw scene//  
> you can skip this chapter if you don't want to read the nsfw parts!

“Corvo,” he breathes, voice rough and breath short, “take me to bed, beloved. Make me yours.”

Corvo laughs, squeezing the Outsider’s waist, pressing his forehead to his. “You teased me about Morgan Yu, but you would never be satisfied with other men, would you?” he asks, soft as the Outsider presses his mouth to Corvo’s jaw. “And I have already been yours for a long time.”

“Perhaps,” the Outsider concedes, reaching up to cup a hand under Corvo’s jaw. He kisses both of Corvo’s cheeks and then his forehead tenderly, moving his hand from his chin to brush his fingers over his pulse and Adam’s Apple. “Though I insisted on being difficult.”

Corvo kisses him again, wrapping his arm around his waist and tugging him close. The Outsider still kisses a little sloppily, too fast, but he shivers and slows down when Corvo licks his lower lip. He grasps at Corvo’s arm around his waist, tugging him with him as he backs up towards the bed. When he reaches the bed, he spins Corvo around, shoving him down first. Corvo hits the bed, smiling, as the Outsider straddles his hips and starts unbuttoning his suit.

“I am fond of you regardless,” Corvo says, placing his hands on his waist again, thumbing along the hipbones he can feel under the suit.

The Outsider huffs. “Untrue, you were very upset with me at the start, manhandling me after I was appointed Spymaster. Though I suppose I should not complain; I liked it.”

He shucks off his suit, tossing it aside. Taking off his long suit, it's obvious now that the Outsider is already hard in his pants. He settles his weight down on Corvo’s hips, placing his hands on his chest, squeezing just barely.

“Dear Corvo, you’ve seduced a god into your bed now.” He palms over Corvo’s chest, tilting his head and smiling. Voice lower and drawled, he asks sweetly, “Do you have oil, beloved?”

Corvo sits up and pushes the Outsider’s hands on his chest away gently. He works his fingers on his own suit’s buttons as he talks, “I could say I knew what would happen after our dance and prepared beforehand, but that would be untrue,” he says as he coaxes the Outsider to climb off him. “I’ve already had this bottle for my own use.”

“Ah.” The Outsider looks away as he stands up. “I have never watched you pleasure yourself.”

“Would you like to?” Corvo asks lazily, feeling smug when the Outsider twitches a little at the question.

“With your consent,” he replies softly, turning his gaze back to him. “I am not a voyeur of such… matters otherwise. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a pervert.”

“Popular belief?”

The Outsider huffs with disdain. “You would not believe how many worship me as a deity of pleasures, of power, money, and sex. A perverse god.”

He sighs into Corvo’s mouth as he kisses back while Corvo coaxes him to lay back down on the bed. He climbs over the sheets, laying down in the center of the bed, his hair and clothes ruffled and his eyes half-lidded. Corvo’s cock twitches in his pants. The Outsider makes him feel young again. He snatches the small vial of oil from the drawer and then joins him on the bed, climbing over him. He braces his forearms on either side of the Outsider’s face, leaning down to kiss him.

“The lewd, tawdry novels they’ve written of me, honestly. Have you heard of _The Heart of the Abyss_? An… enjoyable read, though wholly inaccurate. I’m not so easy to court and I certainly do not _mewl_.”

Corvo laughs against his jaw. “What does that word even entail?”

“I know,” the Outsider complains, “What an unappealing word.”

Corvo sets the vial down on the other pillow to free his hands so he can work them on the buttons of the Outsider’s inner shirt. He is eager, impatient, but he wants this to be achingly sweet for the Outsider, slow and drawn out. His skin is milky pale, a stark contrast compared to the dark navy of his inner shirt. Corvo traces his fingers over his skin as he reveals more with each button undone.

The Outsider turns his face into the pillow, closing his eyes. “It smells like you.”

“And what do I smell like?”

“You want me to wax poetic, talk about scents as if we are in a romance novel.” The Outsider stretches, arching his back and smiling, “But if you must know, you smell faintly of the scented lavender candles you burn in here. A hint of gunpowder.”

Corvo succeeds in unbuttoning his suit while they have been talking. He spreads the suit open, spreading his hands greedily over his bare skin. He thumbs over the Outsider’s nipples, reveling in the soft moan that escapes his mouth as he arches up into Corvo’s hands. He kisses his jaw, smiling as he presses his palm against the Outsider’s chest and feels a fast and heavy heartbeat answer him in return.

“Hurry, Corvo,” the Outsider moans, squirming. He frowns as he reaches for his pants.

Corvo catches his wrist, guiding his hand up to press a kiss to the pulse there, smiling. “Let me.”

The Outsider huffs, but acquiesces, settling back into the sheets, watching Corvo with curious, heated eyes as he continues undressing him. Corvo presses the flat of his hand over his hips, kneading at the joints there, sweeping his fingers over his thighs before he unbuttons the Outsider’s pants. He does so carefully, pointedly ignoring the deity’s hard cock. He’s not wearing smallclothes underneath— Corvo swallows hard. The Outsider hisses and arches his hips upwards as his cock rubs against the pant’s fabric.

Corvo shushes him, soothing, palming gently over his thighs before he tugs the Outsider’s pants off. The god cooperates, flushed as he lifts his hips and shifts his legs. Corvo tosses the pants aside, acutely aware of how hard he is in his own pants. He turns his gaze up to the Outsider’s face. His skin is milk white, devoid of blemishes and scars except for the thin one on his neck. Corvo wonders if it's always been there— the Outsider wears high collar suits and jackets that are tall enough to conceal it if he wished.

Corvo reaches up, closes his hand just barely over his neck, thumb stroking along the scar, a mark of darker skin in sharp contrast in the rest of his body. “I wish the circumstances were different,” he says, surprised by how rough and mournful his voice sounds, even to him.

The Outsider smiles, shaking his head. He looks perfectly content and relaxed on Corvo’s bed, tangled in his sheets, his suit still not all the way off, merely spread open. “Do you, beloved? If I lived as a human normally all those centuries ago, I never would’ve met you.”

Corvo pulls his hand away to curl along the underside of his jaw. “I just wish you weren’t hurt by the whole process.”

The Outsider shakes his head again, eyes closed as he nuzzles into Corvo’s hand. “The price for attaining godhood is steep, dear Corvo. I was not in pain for long. You do not have to tend to my wounds anymore; I have already decided what I want.” He opens his eyes, smiling. “Now, are you going to continue dawdling? I want to see you too.”

Corvo feels eased by his words, the anxiety in his stomach lessening as he relaxes. He sits back again, looking over the Outsider slowly while he absently finishes unbuttoning the lower half of his own suit’s buttons. The Outsider is thin, but not malnourished looking like his body would’ve been at sacrifice. Though Corvo is not surprised. If he can choose to appear at whatever age he desires, changing small things about his physical appearance must not be a strain on him. The Outsider is still painfully hard, his cock is wet and straining against his stomach. His skin is starting to flush pale pink, spreading over his neck and collarbones, up to his ears.

Soon enough, Corvo is bare-chested, clothes tossed aside and already forgotten. He unbuttons his pants and shoves his underclothes down, closing a hand around himself as he licks his lips and looks the Outsider over again slowly.

The Outsider’s eyes are bright with interest. He sits up a little, bracing himself on his elbows and frowning at Corvo. “Well?” he prompts impatiently. “Are you going to touch me?”

Corvo smiles, feels his breath grow short as he strokes himself loosely a few times before he sweeps his hands up and down the Outsider’s thighs soothingly. "Patience. You look good and I want to take my time with you."

The Outsider flushes at that, the tip of his nose pretty pink as he huffs. "So I am not a pervert, but you _are_ a lecherous old man."

Corvo's smile widens as he slides his hands up, palming over the Outsider’s cock and feeling smug when the god shudders and bucks his hips up. His cock is hard and heavy in his hand when Corvo closes his fingers around him properly, slick at the tip already. He strokes him firm and tight, watching breathlessly as the Outsider arches his head back, baring his neck as he bites his lower lip and makes a soft, choked noise at the back of his throat.

The Outsider laughs, sudden, lifting his head again to look at Corvo. “So, it turns out those swordfighting lessons I insisted on ended well for me after all,” he snickers.

Corvo groans, leaning forward to blanket the god’s body with his own, tucking his face into the Outsider’s neck.

He only seems pleased, sighing and wriggling as Corvo’s body presses against his own. He drops down from his elbows, lying back down onto the bed. His mouth is bitten red, and he moans quietly when Corvo kisses him, pliable and open. Corvo thinks he’s going to go crazy like this; the Outsider’s warm body beneath him, his hands palming and scratching lightly at Corvo’s back, his mouth breathless against Corvo’s own.

Corvo keeps pumping his cock loosely, lazily, feeling emboldened by how the Outsider squirms beneath him. “You’re wet for me already,” he says against his jaw, rubbing his thumb over his slick cockhead. “Tell me what you want, Outsider.”

The god moans, hips twitching. He scratches at Corvo’s shoulders lightly as he rolls his hips needily. “Corvo, take me,” he groans, letting go of Corvo to throw his arm over his face as it flushes. “Fuck me with your cock, Corvo.”

Corvo groans, jerking his hips forward to rut against the Outsider’s hip. He shifts so his cock presses against the other man’s, wrapping his hand around them both and stroking tightly. The Outsider whines, a low growl and the hiss of bonecharms in the back of his throat. Corvo is getting impatient and that only excites him more. He grinds against the Outsider painfully slowly, keeping his hand tight around them.

"Corvo," the Outsider moans. "You're teasing."

Corvo nuzzles at his throat for his troubles, letting go of their cocks to reach for the forgotten vial of oil on the pillow. He sits up, grinding lazily against the Outsider still as he pours some of the oil onto his fingers. It’s cold and some of it drips onto the Outsider’s stomach between his fingers. The god hisses, wincing. Corvo wonders if he is particularly sensitive— in some ways, the Outsider seems so quintessentially human. Sensitive and responsive; he is warm with dazed eyes, with a heated and heavy cock pressed against Corvo’s own.

“Sorry,” he murmurs placatingly, “I’ll warm it up before I use it on you.”

Corvo shifts from straddling the Outsider’s thighs to sitting between his legs, spreading them carefully wider. The Outsider twists, quiet and proud, as he looks at Corvo expectantly. Corvo presses an oil-warmed slick finger in carefully, watching for any discomfort. The deity’s mouth falls open, a quiet and breathless noise slipping out. He turns his face into the pillow, moaning when Corvo starts pumping his cock again loosely as he fingers him.

“Corvo, hurry… I’ll finish too quickly if you tease for too long...”

Corvo slips a second finger inside, kissing the Outsider’s jaw placatingly. “The prospect of you finishing twice is not unappealing, you know.”

“You’re lewd,” the Outsider complains, even as he breathlessly wiggles his hips, desperately pushing back against Corvo’s fingers scissoring him open.

The Outsider is tight and it’s obvious to Corvo he has never done this before. He’s not fully relaxed and Corvo does his best to soothe him, pressing butterfly kisses to his chest and coaxing him to breathe slowly and evenly. The Outsider eventually relaxes, chest rising and falling in a steady tempo. Corvo slips in a third finger, and the moan the Outsider makes goes straight to his cock.

He feels like a young man of twenty again. It’s embarrassing and thrilling both at once, he decides, as he feels his cheeks flush warm. He has to pinch his cock at the base and breathe deep to calm down.

Corvo is— he is not new to this. Though it is not well-known, he and a professor from the College of Natural Philosophy did court for a short time. It was a very quiet affair. The man had sought out his attention shyly after working with him, Sokolov, and Piero Joplin in the months after the Rat Plague, ensuring the cure was a stable, enduring solution.

He leans up and kisses the Outsider gently, smiling at the dazed look the god gives him. He quirks an eyebrow, his own lips curling upwards, “How very tender, dear Corvo. I’m not that fragile.”

“I know,” Corvo says, the sound soft, muffled against his skin as he slips his fingers out carefully. He nudges the Outsider’s thighs apart, lifting a leg to kiss at his knee. “But I wish to make love to you—”

“You are so embarrassing,” the Outsider complains, throwing his arm over his face, but it is not fast enough to hide the way his expression twisted in tender embarrassment at Corvo’s words.

Corvo laughs, feeling lightheaded and giddy. He cannot recall the last time he has felt so happy after Jessamine. It’s been a very long time. “You’re beautiful, Outsider,” he says softly.

“You are so sentimental, Corvo,” he replies, face still hidden under his arm.

He sighs, squirms as he feels Corvo press his cockhead against him without pushing in. He lifts his arm from his face, looking up at Corvo expectantly with cheeks flushed, green eyes bright and heated. “Stop teasing.”

Corvo rubs his cockhead against him teasingly again, grinning when the Outsider arches his back and moans impatiently. The deity gasps when Corvo finally relents and carefully pushes in. The Outsider yields for him, tight and warm, and Corvo feels overwhelmed as he slides all the way in. The Outsider is heaving and Corvo can almost see how his ribs contract beneath his skin— he is so human after all. He reaches for him and Corvo meets him halfway, letting him wrap his arms around his neck as he kisses him.

The Outsider moans his name into his mouth, like a prayer, Corvo thinks faintly. He worships a god of human flesh now, the Outsider’s bone sallow skin growing rosier in hue, cold steel touches now warm and gentle, his shark teeth no longer there, replaced by flat incisors, a chest no longer hollow, instead filled with the beating of a living heart.

The Outsider bites at Corvo’s mouth, eyes glazed over in pleasure as he twists beneath him. “You’ve cursed me now with a sensitive human body, one that needs proper sustenance, water, and care.”

Corvo smiles, tucking his face into his neck as he rolls his hips slow, making the Outsider moan sweetly. “Do you hate it so much? Being human?”

The Outsider makes a soft, breathless noise, wrapping his legs around Corvo’s waist. “This part of it is not so bad, if only you’d fuck me instead of talking,” the Outsider manages to gasp out.

Corvo smiles, tells him he’s demanding, a petulant god, but he holds onto his hips as he starts thrusting faster and deeper. The Outsider twists on the bed, dropping one hand from Corvo’s neck to knot fingers in the sheets as he moans and whines. He arches his back, settling back against the bed as he catches his breath. He shakily reaches up to touch his own chest, fingers playing with his own nipples. He looks away as Corvo stares, watching the Outsider as he twists and pinches at his nipples lightly.

(Corvo really, _really_ feels like a young man again.)

He gets lost in the Outsider, touching everywhere he can put his hands on and kissing him, stealing his breath and the prayers from his mouth. He leaves a trail of red marks over his neck to his collarbone to his chest, over his heart. The Outsider calls him sentimental all the while, but his cheeks are flushed, his body open, and his eyes so fond Corvo thinks there’s little more he wants than for this to go right. He worships a human turned god turned human again.

Soon, the Outsider is clawing at his back, raking his nails lightly against his dark skin. “Corvo,” he moans, another hiss of bonecharms in the subtones of his voice that makes Corvo shudder, “make me come.”

Impatiently, he reaches between their bodies to touch himself, but Corvo catches his hand, pinning it back onto the bed. He moans and breathes harsh against the Outsider's ear.

"You'll come," he growls, breathless, unable to help himself, "I'm going to make you come with just my cock."

The Outsider shivers, a startled whine slipping out of his mouth as he arches and comes suddenly, spilling between them on his stomach and on Corvo's chest. The sight of it makes Corvo’s own stomach clench as he jerks his hips forward and comes inside of him with a low groan. The Outsider throws an arm over his face as he struggles to catch his breath. His ears are pink. Corvo wants to kiss them.

"Corvo," he gasps, breathless, "Corvo, you're... too much."

He can't help but feel smug as he carefully pulls out and peels the Outsider's arm from his face. He leaves a chaste kiss on his mouth, smiling as he presses his forehead to the deity’s own while the Outsider catches his breath with his eyes closed.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Yes, yes,” the Outsider replies, eyes still closed, face twisting as he tries not to smile. “And you’re amazingly handsome, Royal Lord Protector,” he continues, dryly, “How you make me _swoon_. It seems no one can resist your charms.”

“I love you.”

The Outsider stills, and Corvo’s ears are filled with the sound of the ocean, the distant sound of whalesongs, and his own thudding heart. He opens his eyes slowly and they are still green instead of otter black. He reaches up, touches Corvo’s face tenderly, and whispers his name, barely audible and reverent.

Corvo could not be happier.

He shifts, lying down next to him, now acutely aware of his sore back and the exhaustion settling in now after his high. The Outsider curls into his side, stroking his fingers over Corvo’s beard. His green eyes are soft, sleepy. They droop closed.

“Do you regret any of this?”

“No, why would I?” Corvo presses a kiss to his forehead. “You wanted to be a part of my life, help me protect Emily and Dunwall. I’m more than happy you’re here now in my bed.” He curls his hand along his neck, thumbing over his Adam’s Apple. “I only regret that it took us over a decade to figure things out.”

The Outsider huffs, opening his eyes but looking away. “If you fear me not finding you attractive in ten more years, don't worry. My tastes run… towards older men regardless. But my Mark also slows your aging and keeps you…” His ears flush just barely. “...virile.”

“Ah. I see now, so you only care for my seme—"

The Outsider covers Corvo’s mouth with his hand, looking affronted. “Don't be lewd, Corvo.” Content that he’s not going to try saying anything else indecent, he removes his hands and settles firmer into the sheets, closing his eyes again.

“Are you going to sleep?” Corvo strokes at his hair. “It’s only nearing nine and you should…” His gaze flickers down to the still wet cum on his stomach, “take a bath first regardless.”

The Outsider yawns, brow furrowing, but he pointedly does not respond.

“Well, you’re free to join me, if you’d like to,” Corvo says, smiling to himself as he sits up to climb out of bed.

As much as he’d like to just stay in bed with the god, he does want to wash up and if the Outsider is too lazy, he figures he’ll bring a wet towel to clean him up. His pants are still on, shucked halfway down his thighs and he tugs them off with his underclothes, wincing at the cum stains on the front. He’ll have to wash this carefully himself instead of handing it to the cleaning staff. The tailor doesn’t need to hear of how his suit has been thoroughly debauched. Corvo leaves the door to his adjoined bathroom open as he draws up a hot water bath. He dips a towel into the warm water and wrings it out.

When he comes back to the doorway, he finds the Outsider still nude and floating by the bed, a swirl of water beneath his feet. He flicks his fingers and the curtains across the room part, allowing them a view of the night sky through the window. There’s still cum on his stomach, starting to dry now and the hickeys are starting to become more visible, Corvo realizes with pleasure. The Outsider glances over at him, seeming amused.

“I suppose I’ll join you for a bath.”

“And I assume this decision had to be announced while you were perched atop a ball of floating water?”

The Outsider turns up his nose at him, folding his arms across his chest. “Appearances are so very important, my dear Lord Protector.”

The room starts to fill with water again, as if materializing directly from the floor. It has almost no weight to it, like before, and it does not displace anything in the room. Corvo quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Is this you or the Void, exercising its own free will again?”

The Outsider doesn't respond as the water level quickly rises above their knees and continues. It slows as it reaches halfway up their thighs. Corvo suspects that the more human the Outsider becomes, the more the Void is unsettled— displaced by the lack of a proper keeper inside of it. Corvo looks down into the water to see reflections of scenes— of memories, he realizes suddenly. They are scenes from the Outsider’s perspective of his daily life as the Spymaster. Corvo is sprinkled throughout the snapshots.

The Outsider coughs. “The Void is not its own entity. The turmoil in the Void is a reflection of many things, but mostly of my presence or lack there of and my… mind state.”

“So, you are happy?” Corvo asks softly.

The Outsider looks down into the water, breaks the surface with a finger touching the image of a memory. It is the scene of him and Corvo dancing in the Void over a decade ago, when Corvo had first asked him to dance with him in public.

“Yes,” the Outsider concedes softly. “It appears so.”

The water starts to drain, taking with it the memories. It sinks down into the ground, vanishing completely, leaving Corvo’s room in the same condition it was before. But there’s still a hint of sea salt in the air, of the fresh ocean breeze. The Outsider steps down from his perch atop the swirling water, and it dissipates as he does. He paces over to Corvo, eyes warm.

“I think I’ll have that bath now.”

Corvo smiles, offers his free hand to him, “Come with me then.”

The Outsider takes his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading so far~~ i would just like to ask that if u leave a comment for this chapter not to make it too suggestive, i get a little anxious about nsfw comments


	12. a quiet intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider and Corvo discover the nice simplicity of quiet intimacy.

The bath is uneventful. They are both tired, too exhausted for anything indecent. The Outsider sits between Corvo’s legs in the bathtub with his knees tugged up to his chest as Corvo washes his hair for him. He seems sleepy, sweeping his fingers lazily through the water before lolling his head back against Corvo’s hands.

“The Empress will be so very rich after tonight’s payouts.”

Corvo stills before he runs his fingers through the Outsider’s damp hair again, sighing. “It figures you knew of all the gossip.”

The Outsider leans back against Corvo, still playing with the water absently while he talks. “As you are so fond of saying, my dear, there are always rumors. Other individuals will also be gathering their winnings after tonight. For example, Esma Boyle,” the Outsider snickers when Corvo groans, “You are so fond of her, aren't you? Dancing with her and helping her with her desperate little crush.”

Corvo hums absently, stroking his fingers over the Outsider’s hair. It’s nice like this, he decides, as he and the Outsider continue their conversation in quiet, sleepy voices. It feels like they’ve been intimate together for decades when the conversations are soft and playful, with no real urgency in it. The Outsider is human, as close as he can be, a facsimile almost perfect, in his arms. Corvo can count on one hand the few times he’s seen the Outsider with his oil black eyes in private— his green eyes are a near permanent feature now. He did not like it much at first, in some ways, an Outsider with human eyes felt like a stranger, an imposter. But the Outsider’s green eyes are vibrant, expressive in ways that makes Corvo’s heart ache.

“So sentimental, favorite,” the Outsider hums, glancing over his shoulder at him. He shifts in the bath, turning his entire body around so he is kneeling between Corvo’s legs. He cradles Corvo’s face in his wet fingers, skin heated from the bathwater and his now naturally warm body temperature. “I told you, didn't I? We would get here eventually after all.”

Corvo places his hand on his waist, squeezing, fingers smoothing over the curve of his ass. He smiles at the way the Outsider’s eyes brighten in interest, hips twitching. “I was impatient. It was hard to see you everyday and not be able to have you to myself.”

The Outsider licks the front row of his teeth, smiling. “Of course.” He smoothes a thumb over Corvo’s lower lip, “I’m no stranger to your heated glances and longing looks, beloved,” he teases. He leans forward, towering over Corvo in the bath and sliding his hands down from his face to sweep over his chest. “Perhaps we should return to bed now.”

Corvo smiles as the Outsider leans down to kiss him. They step out of the bath together and Corvo helps dry the Outsider off, rubbing at his pale skin with the soft towel while the deity preens, combing his fingers through his damp hair. He turns to fuss with Corvo’s hair next while he dries himself off. He sweeps his fingers through his bangs, trailing his index finger along his temple.

“You frown less,” the Outsider says thoughtfully. “You were so somber thirteen years ago. The rug ripped out from under your feet, a corrupt government, an ailing city, whispers of danger behind the masks of Daud’s Whalers. And yet, you were so brave and stubborn. Everything you wanted to do, you did so with subtlety and tact. But you were always frowning— I suppose you had very little to smile about.” He leans forward to kiss his forehead. “Though that is no longer true. It is good to see you happy, my dear Corvo.”

“Have you always been a romantic?” Corvo asks, smiling as he hugs the Outsider close. “Or it it the romance novels you’ve read recently?”

The Outsider huffs, wriggling out of his hug to tug Corvo to follow him back to the bedroom. Corvo tosses the towel aside and lets the Outsider lead him back, their fingers loosely intertwined.

“I’ve snatched books from the Empress’s collection,” he admits, chuckling, “However, she mostly reads lesbian novels… I’m wholly interested in men, so it helps little. But they are still good reads.”

Corvo shakes his head, trying to put the thought out of his mind. Emily may be twenty three now, but it’s weird to think of her being indecent in any way.

They are both nude still and there’s a slight chill in the air now that it’s night time. Corvo glances out the window. He imagines the banquet will end in another hour or so. It is late, closing in on midnight, and the moonlight is beautiful where it filters in through his window, painting light and patterns over the rug by his bed. The Outsider climbs into bed and pulls Corvo to follow. They settle onto the bed together, face to face. The Outsider shivers a little and nuzzles into his pillow as Corvo tugs the sheets over them.

“Are you cold still?”

The Outsider chuckles, pressing closer. “I have a very warm body here to keep me from getting cold, Lord Protector. I think I’ll be alright.”

Corvo curls an arm around his waist, hiding his smile in the god’s still damp hair.

He thinks they’ll be alright too.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Corvo wakes the next morning with the Outsider’s hair in his face again. His back is to Corvo’s chest again, with his ass pressed to Corvo’s hips. He’s half-hard again and he wonders dimly if this is going to be a trend if he keeps sharing his bed with the god. He sweeps his hand down along the Outsider’s side, kissing at the nape of his neck. If the other man is not awake yet, Corvo is hardpressed to find a reason to leave bed himself. He glances behind him out the window. It’s early still, a little past sunrise maybe. He can start his day a little late today. Emily always tells him he should sleep in more and take his mornings a little slower.

The Outsider shifts, turning his face from the pillow to make a soft, sleepy noise. “Good morning, dear Corvo,” he says, laughing a little, the sound throaty and rough from sleep. Admittedly, the noise embarrassingly goes straight to Corvo’s cock.

“Good morning,” he manages, clearing his throat.

The Outsider hums, rolling his hips back. Corvo’s cock nudges against his asscheeks from the movement and he breathes out a little harsh against the back of the god’s neck.

“Morning glory, is it?” he murmurs, voice playful.

“Don’t tease.”

“I never tease.” The Outsider brings his hand back to curl around the back of Corvo’s head and bucks his hips again, more deliberately this time. “Beloved,” he breathes, the sound soft and a little needy, “between my thighs please.”

Corvo’s breath hitches in his throat as the Outsider lifts his leg just barely, letting Corvo slip his cock between his thighs, nudged up under his balls. He clamps his legs together, making him and Corvo sigh in unison at the feeling. Corvo kisses at his ear, coaxes him to wait for just a second. He reaches behind him for the vial of oil he knows he left on the bedstand after last night. He kisses at the nape of the Outsider’s neck as he carefully wets his fingers with oil and reaches down to slick his cock and the Outsider’s thighs with it after warming it up. The god squirms impatiently all the while, sighing. He rolls his hips back, moaning softly as Corvo’s cock slides between his slick thighs smoothly.

“Outsider,” Corvo groans, “Tell me you want me.”

He snakes his right hand, still slick with oil, around his waist, curling it loosely around the Outsider’s cock. The god moans, turning his face back into the pillow, inhaling sharply as he bucks his hips forward into Corvo’s hand and then back against his hips, grinding his cock tightly between his thighs.

“I want you, Corvo,” he murmurs, a desperate, breathless admission. He reaches down to press his palm over the top of Corvo’s cockhead between his thighs, rubbing over the slit roughly and gasping when he moans harshly against the Outsider’s neck at the feeling. “That’s it, dear Corvo. Just like that.”

Corvo thrusts quick and hard between his thighs, shuddering every time his cockhead bumps roughly against the Outsider’s palm. He strokes the Outsider’s cock firmer, tight and slow as he squeezes hard at the base of his cock. The Outsider shivers, moaning his name again. Corvo lets go to trail his fingers lightly along the underside of his cock before squeezing his balls. He glides his fingers back up to rub at his cockhead, teasing a thumb along his slit. The Outsider groans, turning his face to try and look at Corvo, gasping out a warning. He doesn’t get it out before he comes, jerking hard and spilling wet and warm over Corvo’s fingers and his stomach and the bed.

“You look good when you finish.”

The Outsider groans a little, turning to bury his face back into the pillow as he catches his breath. Corvo lets him do so, slowing his thrusts down until they’re languid and shallow between his thighs. The Outsider rolls his hips again, urgent as he moans, and Corvo is helpless when he asks him to pick up the pace. He grips the Outsider’s hips tight as he thrusts hard between his thighs, grunting and growling against his ear as he gets closer.

“Dearly beloved Corvo,” the Outsider breathes, and Corvo comes, shuddering as he spills between his thighs. His hips jerk forward a few more times before he stops, leaving his cum slick cock still wedged between his legs. “So good for me, Corvo….”

The Outsider lifts his leg, reaching between his thighs to trace his fingers through Corvo’s cum. He lifts his fingers back to his mouth, humming with amusement at the way Corvo twitches behind him at the sight. He sticks his fingers into his mouth and suckles at them messily before popping his fingers out and shaking his head.

“Mm, as I thought, not suited to my palate,” he snickers as he turns around in Corvo’s arms to face him. “Though I always thought it an exaggeration that all those lewd stories said it would taste bitter.”

“How much _do_ you read?”

“I’m over four thousand years old,” the Outsider replies dryly, “That’s a lot of time to read, my dear.” He smiles as Corvo kisses his forehead. “We’ll need another bath before we start the day, Corvo. Though this time, I won’t be joining you. I think we’d get… distracted.”

Corvo flushes a little at the Outsider’s smirk. The god isn’t wrong, and while he feels giddy at all these recent developments, he doesn’t want to lose himself and forget that of course, he and the Outsider still have very public personas and jobs to maintain. He slips out of bed after pressing a kiss to the Outsider’s pretty mouth.

"I hate telling you to leave," the Outsider says behind him, something playful and mischievous in his voice, "but I love to watch you go."

Corvo flushes, turning to look back at him, but before he can reply, the Outsider has flopped back on the bed, turning his back to him.

“You should fetch me a pastry to wash the taste of your cum out of my mouth,” he suggests playfully, burrowing comfortably back beneath Corvo’s soft sheets. From where he is standing near the bathroom, he can spy the Outsider’s messy black hair peeking out against the pillow. His voice is muffled by linen when he speaks again, “It is the least you could do.”

Corvo smiles to himself as he enters the bathroom, telling the Outsider he makes no promises.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Corvo finishes his bath and gets dressed in the bathroom before returning to the bedroom. The Outsider is still curled beneath his sheets, his head of messy hair resting against Corvo's soft pillows. Corvo steps closer, peers over at him to see if he's asleep or awake. There's a purpling hickey on the back of his neck, near where his jawline meets his neck. Corvo isn't so sure if the Outsider's normal high collared jacket will hide it. He seems to be asleep, so Corvo decides to leave him be after tucking his blanket up a little further.

He flags down a servant in the hallway and with a cough, awkwardly requests they bring the Outsider’s usual sugary sweet breakfast to his quarters instead. Of course, it’s not as though he should be embarrassed, especially after last night at the banquet. Just like with Jessamine, it’s been a poorly kept secret that Corvo and the Outsider have been… interested in each other. But Corvo still feels a little flushed as the maid beams at him and nods before hurrying off.

He adjusts his own jacket collar absentmindedly as he heads down the hallway to Emily’s personal office. He knocks at the door before entering when she tells him to come in, voice sounding distracted. She looks up from her paperwork when he enters, and starts grinning smugly when she realizes it’s him.

“Well, well, Father,” she says, leaning her cheek against the back of her hand. “Good to see you again after you disappeared from last night’s banquet.”

Corvo coughs into his hand, “I assume the banquet went well.”

“Of course,” Emily says, snickering, “I had to deal with a lot of sad suitors though.” She holds up a finger and turns towards a drawer behind her, rustling through it with her other hand. She picks up a small stack of papers, holding it up, amused, before offering it to Corvo. He takes them warily from her. “A lot of them came up and told me to pass on congratulations to you… but also asked me to pass on their address for you to pen them a letter if you ever changed your mind.”

Corvo groans. He flips through the papers. They are indeed a bunch of short scrawled letters from familiar suitors. A few of them are addressed to the Outsider actually. He tucks those aside without reading them— he’ll give them to the deity later.

Emily taps her pen against the desk, leaning her hand in her cheek again. She smiles, dimples showing in her cheeks, “Did Mother ever have to deal with your persistent suitors?”

If anything, it was Corvo who had to deal with Jessamine’s suitors. He admits he often felt inadequate when beautiful women from all over the Isles would sweep into Jessamine’s court, smelling of sweet perfume, fluttering their eyelashes as they asked for Jessamine’s hand. She always loved the women who courted her, called them lovely and stunning, but she was rarely impressed by men who pursued her.

“I don't think I was a very popular young man,” Corvo says mildly, quiet.

He was a cocky teenager when he came to Dunwall, just turned eighteen, and incredibly naive about the subtleties of the political court. He was naturally taciturn and quiet, but his attitude was brash and overconfident, earning the disdain of older generals, even if they had to concede his swordfighting skills. Jessamine seemed more amused by him than she was offended, finding his awkward and gruff nature charming. And he was weak for her sharp tongue, deadly eyes, and ultimately, too kind and trusting heart. Faintly, he wonders if Jessamine would approve of the Outsider, but he can no longer ask her. Her spirit gave him a final farewell before vacating the mechanical heart.

“Father?” Emily asks gently, brow furrowed. “I did not mean to bring back bad memories.”

“No, it’s not—” Corvo shakes his head, presses a hand to his forehead. He suddenly feels very mournful, thinking of how distant and sad Jessamine’s voice sounded, whispered in his ear from the clockwork heart. “I just wonder what Jessamine would think.”

Emily’s gaze softens. She leans forward, placing her hand on his forearm and squeezing gently to get his attention. “She loved you most when you were smiling, Father. She would have loved nothing more than to see you happy, of that I am sure.”

That’s true, isn’t it? She always told him he was frowning too much, even when he was with her.

_“You always worry too much, Corvo,” Jessamine had said, laughing gently as she pressed a finger to his forehead, between his wrinkles. “Come now, I want you to smile more.” She cradled his face in her hands, a warm smile curling her lips. “You once told me that you were content so long as I was happy. The same is true for me, Corvo. Nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy.”_

And he is the happiest he has ever been in years. He’s always been happy with just Emily, and he doubted he would ever court anyone else after Jessamine, but the Outsider fits into his strange life perfectly.

“Are we still going for the picnic?”

Emily’s eyes widen in surprise before she smiles, happy, “Of course. I’ve already made preparations.” She squeezes his arm again, expression softening again. “You had mentioned wanting to visit Mother’s grave after the picnic. Do you still want to?”

“Yes.” He settles down opposite to her and smiling at her. “There will be much to tell her.”

“Least of all, my upcoming wedding,” Emily groans, huffing, “I am so excited for the wedding itself, but planning it has been absolutely horrendous. Everyone feels entitled to give me their opinion!”

Corvo chuckles, leaning back against the chair. He folds his arms across his chest. “Let me guess; now that Sokolov is back, he has insisted on plans for an assortment of paintings?”

Emily nods, rolling her eyes. She starts telling him about the nagging she’s received, not just from Sokolov, but from Callista too, and even Samuel. They all insist on personally helping her plan the affair. While she appreciate it, it has been a nightmare to coordinate because her event planners keep receiving conflicting instructions from all the different “helpers”. She loves all these people in her lives and is thankful for their concern, but she wants the wedding to be of her own and Wyman’s designs. She’s grateful that Corvo himself has respectfully stayed distanced from the planning as per her wishes.

He watches as her face goes through a whole range of emotions as she talks. Yes, he thinks, he is happy. Here he is in his home in Dunwall, a city now mostly healed from its nasty scars and devastating illness, with a capable, happy daughter, unhurt and so strong despite her traumatic past. And she is a powerful, well loved, wise and respected Empress, adored by her consort, who Corvo knows would readily fight to the death for Emily.

 _Yes_ , he thinks, smiling now, he is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading so far~~  
> similar to last chapter, i would just like to ask that if u leave a comment for this chapter not to make it too suggestive, i get a little anxious about nsfw comments


	13. domesticity, and so the pieces fall into place and the ground settles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have a fun day today, my love. Soak up the sun with your daughter in the garden meadows, once again crowned in frail flowers, and return to me when the day meets the night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're in the final stretch kids!!!!

The Outsider is sitting at the roundtable with papers in one hand and a fork in the other. He picks through his pancakes absently while reading, only looking up when Corvo enters. He’s wearing a loose sleep shirt and pants with a throw blanket tucked over his shoulders. His hair is still sleep-ruffled. Corvo can still spy the hickey on his jaw. He toes off his shoes and paces over.

The Outsider smiles, setting the papers down to take a sip of his drink, honey-sweetened milk. “Welcome back, my love,” he says, the words muffled around the rim of his cup. “How was the meeting with the Empress?”

“Uneventful.” Corvo sits down next to him. “I had breakfast with Emily already, I hope you don’t mind.”

The Outsider hums, picking at a small piece of pancake with his fork. “Yes, of course I’m furious, how dare you have breakfast with your daughter.” He smiles around his fork, eyes soft, “It’s been awhile since you’ve spent time with her. While we were dancing, she complained to me that I’ve been ‘hogging’ you,” he says dryly, complete with air quotes from his free hand. “But she also confessed she was glad of our… recent developments.”

Ah. Corvo feels his cheeks flush.

“Her own happiness and approval aside,” the Outsider continues, waving his hand, “she told me about the picnic she was planning with you.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair. “That sounds like an excellent idea. You both have been so busy. It should be good to get out.”

The Outsider’s voice is soft and his eyes are warm. The room is still warm with the low fire the Outsider has stoked in the fireplace. (He gets cold easily, even in summer.) The bedsheets are ruffled, the top corner of the sheets tossed aside for when the Outsider presumably got out of the bed. His food is half-eaten and his warm toes press to Corvo’s feet under the desk.

“We could go on a vacation too.”

The Outsider looks up from his food, surprised, before his gaze softens again. “Oh? And where to, would you propose?” he asks, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand.

“Perhaps Karnaca.”

“Only if you apply my sunscreen for me, my dear,” he teases, eyes twinkling.

Corvo looks away, feels giddy and embarrassed. He clears his throat as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the letters he received earlier from Emily. He thumbs through the stack until he sees the Outsider’s name and hands the papers over to him.

The deity raises an eyebrow at him, chewing slowly as his eyes rove over the first page. He swallows and bites at the tip of his fork, smirking, “Mm, how bold. This suitor thinks he's more attractive than you, Corvo.” He rests his jaw on the top of his hand, teeth still playing with the fork as he skim reads the letter. “What a wild and cocky proposition.”

“I’m not competitive.”

“No?” the Outsider grins, pressing the grill of his fork over his lower lip. “So you say, but you had quite the reaction to Morgan Yu last night.”

“I don’t need to compete,” Corvo says after a moment, looking away. “You’re already mine.”

The Outsider’s brighten in interest at his words. He places his fork down on the plate and smiles, eyes twinkling as he brushes his foot against Corvo’s ankle. He leans forward with his chin in his hands, fondness in the way his eyes wrinkle at the corners, like crow’s feet. 

“So I am, Corvo.”

He tilts his head before sitting back, eyes closing as he holds his hands up in a cupping motion. Energy swirls around above his hands, coalescing into the familiar water heart Corvo saw a few weeks ago.

“You took the answer to your question ‘why?’. Perhaps it was a burden to me, seeing a human heart as something undesirable. Love as something… not meant for me.”

The heart pulses faster, the water warbling before it fades away seamlessly. The Outsider closes his eyes, lowering his hands into his lap. He breathes out slow and steady, chest rising and falling. His skin flashes translucent, showing Corvo the bones beneath, the red lines of his blood filled veins. He makes a soft noise as he opens his eyes and they are pitch black.

“It’s been a very long time since you’ve seen me like this, beloved.” The Outsider looks down at his own hand, his skin still shimmering translucent in blinks. “Now, it takes effort for me to maintain this visage. I default to the green-eyed human, the man named Tethys.”

“Are you happy?”

“You keep asking me that, Corvo,” the Outsider says, huffing, but he is smiling. His skin returns to normal and when he blinks, his eyes show bright green irises again. “Yes, my love. I am content right where I am.” He snickers, brushing his foot against Corvo’s ankle again. His skin is warm. “Though I might be more content in bed with a… companion."

Corvo looks away, bringing his hand up to cover the smile spreading across his lips. “You have become quite shameless.”

The Outsider grins as he stands up from the table, turning on his heel to Corvo’s closet beside his bed. “It would be easy to waste the day away in bed, my dear, but I am well aware I’ve work to do. I had the servants deliver my clothes from my room— I hope you don’t mind.”

It’s the only warning Corvo gets before the Outsider starts stripping out of his clothes and changing in front of him. He looks away again, clearing his throat. He supposes the Outsider is allowed a good bit of fun.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider starts moving his personal items to Corvo’s bedroom. When he’s not working in his office or meeting contacts and sources, he’s in Corvo’s bedroom, reading or working on less urgent paperwork or for leisure. Corvo will sometimes find the Outsider lounging on his bed, the sheets tangled around his hips while he sits against the headboard, reading.

He collects both novels and history books, partial to surreal horror and crime novels alongside his usual consumption of gay romance books. The Outsider has offered him free access to his book collection, so Corvo flipped through some of his romance books only to find himself flustered. The Outsider has a penchant for overly romantic and sugary sweet slowburn novels or plotless erotica. He only thumbs through part of a sex scene before he was too embarrassed to continue.

As for history books, Corvo knows that having seen history firsthand, the Outsider will write notes in the margins when he reads incorrect accounts. While obviously he cannot rectify the errors in the books officially, he takes great pleasure in leaving notes to educate both Corvo and Emily on their empire’s true history.

When he is not reading, the Outsider will sometimes be hunched over Corvo’s table, penning letters or writing in his diary. He has taken to keeping a personal journal to document his thoughts, his sensations of being further adrift from the Void than he has ever been before.

The Outsider coaxes Corvo to bed when he wants to work late, fingers splaying over the front of his chest while he kisses at his ear with heated suggestions. Corvo grumbles a little, but he doesn’t really mind. He lets the deity drag him to bed with his fingers twined in Corvo’s own. They end up tangled in the sheets and they wake up in the morning with ruffled hair and sleepy eyes and a quiet contentedness. Corvo thinks that the morning is his favorite, when he can nuzzle the Outsider’s forehead and smooth his hand over his side and kiss his sleepy, smiling mouth.

They start the day with a bath together in the morning. The servants are quick to learn that the Outsider has taken residence in Corvo’s bedroom, knowing to bring the Outsider’s food to Corvo’s room for them to eat meals together after their morning bath. They eat breakfast at the table while their damp hair dries out slowly in the lazy summer heat. They talk about everything and nothing like they used to in Corvo’s dreams of visits from the deity. A little bit of politics and work, a little bit of leisure, some playful words and banter.

A week after the banquet passes by quickly, and Corvo wakes with the Outsider’s face pressed into the curve of his neck and shoulder. He pets at the god’s messy hair, carding his fingers through it gently as he turns his head to look at the window. He can spy some early morning sunlight peeking in through the curtains. The Outsider curls up against him, closer, before stretching his arms and legs out. He reminds Corvo of a black stray that used to hang around the castle a few months ago before one of Corvo’s contacts ended up adopting and caring for it.

“You’re going to the picnic today, are you not?” the Outsider asks, voice low, murmured against Corvo’s collarbones.

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t keep the Empress waiting.”

“It’s still early.” Corvo strokes his fingers through the Outsider’s hair again, smiles when the god leans up to kiss him. He tangles his fingers in his hair at the base of his neck as he kisses him back. “Good morning, Outsider.”

“Good morning, Corvo.”

His eyes are very bright and he is smiling, so Corvo kisses him again. The Outsider chuckles into the kiss, makes a surprised and fond noise when Corvo rolls them over so he is straddling the god. Corvo nuzzles into his neck, kisses the line of his jaw, and the Outsider laughs, squeezing Corvo’s hips. His laugh turns airy and then into a breathless moan as Corvo licks over his collarbones and nips at his shoulder.

“As delightful as your attention is, dear Corvo, you have places to be today. It’s your outing with your daughter, beloved, and I do not want to make you late.”

He strokes a hand through Corvo’s bangs when he pulls up to look at him. “You’ve been a terrible distraction recently, you know. I have a number of meetings to catch up on today, while you’re gone.”

Corvo smiles, leans down to kiss the Outsider briefly before he moves to climb off of him and get out of bed. The deity tugs the sheets back up over his bare chest, leaning back into a pillow propped up against the headboard. He hums, folding his hands over his lap on the blanket as he watches Corvo get dressed.

“You know, there is something very thrilling about being with you, my dear,” he says, voice quiet and wistful.

Corvo glances over his shoulder at him as he adjusts his shirt. “How do you mean?”

The Outsider doesn't answer right away, pressing his fingers to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “I can view the branching futures in great clarity. There are many possibilities, but I do not know which timeline will be the one we will progress towards because I will never know exactly what decisions individuals will ultimately decide on. A small scale example, then.”

The Outsider holds up his hand, projecting an image of Esma Boyle, coincidentally, on her date with Miss White. The image branches out to show three more pictures, where the scene is the same… but slightly different. Different food is ordered for Esma in one of them. Esma is wearing a different dress in one and has on red lipstick in the other.

“How will she dress? Do her makeup? What will she order? I do not know, but I have an idea of the possibilities here. Over four thousand years, humans follow the same patterns, but emotion… complicates that. Chaos theory is not perfect.”

The Outsider closes his fingers into his palm and the images vanish. He turns his gaze to Corvo, smiling, a fondness and serene quality to the curve of his lips and the twinkle in his green eyes.

“But you? Corvo, you, my love, obscure timelines  _ entirely _ . I can see the future, but I can never see  _ your _ future. Even the futures of individuals who interact with you are… muddled. Fuzzy. I used to be able to see more, perhaps discern your appearance in twenty years. But now, even that is hidden to me. I wonder why.”

“Romance wouldn’t be very interesting if you knew what I was going to do or say beforehand,” Corvo offers, rubbing a finger over his nose as he looks away.

The Outsider only seems amused by his answer. “You always did have a reputation for being a romantic, Corvo.” 

He clicks his tongue before throwing the covers off his body and swinging his legs off the bed. He is still nude and he smiles, unabashed, when Corvo’s gaze lingers over his exposed skin. 

“In any case, how fortunate that the object of my interests and affections is just as smitten or dare I say,” he hums, licking his lips as he trails a hand between his legs, fingers tracing along his inner thigh. Corvo cannot help but stare, “even more so, than I am in him.”

Corvo looks away, feels his cheeks warm. “It is hard to resist you.”

“Yes, you are a curious soul and I am so very interesting,” the Outsider chuckles, flourishing his his hands as he stands up and paces towards the bathroom. “I’ve kept you quite long enough. Don't be late, beloved. I’ve whisked you away from time with your dear daughter.”

He looks back at Corvo at the threshold to the bathroom, fingers clasped over the door. His green eyes glow bright, a sharp radiance behind them. He smiles, a warmth to the curve of his lips that Corvo would never have imagined possible from the impassive god he first met so many years ago.

“Have a fun day today, my love. Soak up the sun with your daughter in the garden meadows, once again crowned in frail flowers, and return to me when the day meets the night.”

  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Alexi is their escort for the trip. She bows with a smile as she opens the carriage doors for Corvo and Emily, offering her arm as a grip for them to hold onto as they take the step up onto the carriage platform.

Corvo had wanted more than just Alexi on standby, but Emily insisted that having more guards would be suffocating for the experience. She wants them to take their time and have fun on the picnic. Even though she’s had thirteen years now to get used to bodyguards and soldiers attending to her as the Empress of the Isles, Emily still dislikes the feeling of constantly being monitored. She understands it is for her own safety and that as well-trained as she and Corvo both are, they cannot possibly be prepared for every situation that comes their way. Nonetheless, it doesn’t make her any happier when she must be flanked by at least four bodyguards every time she leaves without Corvo’s personal presence.

Alexi coaxes the horses to start walking before they pick up speed. Emily sits next to him in the spacious carriage, her eyes turned to look out the window as the streets of Dunwall start to pass them by. She twists ther engagement ring back and forth on her index finger with her other hand. She bites on her lower lip, eyes going distant, as if she’s not really seeing the scenery.

“Emily?” he asks gently.

She jolts, looking over to him. “Sorry,” she says after a moment, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” she murmurs absently, turning her gaze down to her hand.

She spreads her fingers as she stares at the engagement ring. It is custom made, the ring Wyman proposed to her with, different from the Imperial Signet Ring which unlocks the Imperial Safe Room. After the proposal, Corvo handed over his own Imperial Signet Ring, which he had kept after the death of Jessamine. Now that Emily is getting married, that means Wyman will be the rightful owner of it and has been granted access to the safe room.

“You’re going to be getting married in a month,” he says and his own eyes fall on the engagement ring before he reaches up to squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll have to walk you down the aisle; that is a strange thought, but not a bad one.”

“Yes,” she says, but her mouth twists and her brow furrows.

Corvo frowns, immediately suspicious and protective, “Is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, no, Father!” Emily quickly shakes her head, putting her hands up, eyes wide with alarm. “Nothing of the sort. I am very happy and excited to be marrying Wyman. I’m just… nervous,” she says, looking away.

“There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

Emily tenses before she sighs, her own shoulders sagging. “The truth is... I’ve been thinking a lot about Mother.”

“I miss her too,” Corvo confides, squeezing her shoulder again.

“I know,” she says softly. “What happened with Mother… I was too young, I think, to fully understand everything. They say children are resilient. I,” her voice breaks slightly as she looks up at him, eyes emotional and warm, “I thought about you, Father, how you were left to pick up the pieces. Your dead lover, your missing daughter, your crumbling and sick home.”

Corvo shakes his head. He loves her so much. He recalls when Emily was born and as cliché as it sounds, he cried as he held her while Jessamine watched them, exhausted but happy. And though he was born in Karnaca, he came to see Dunwall as his home, grew to love its faults. It was never a chore. Rebuilding after Jessamine’s death was what he would've done anyway, not out of duty, but because he wanted to.

“Emily, it’s all in the past.”

“I know and I don't want…” Emily closes her eyes, breathing deep. “I don't want you to have to do it all over again if anything were to happen to me.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Corvo says fiercely.

“I know.” Emily opens her eyes to look at him. She rubs at her own arm, still looking anxious. “Not just you, but thinking about Mother… I can’t bear the thought of leaving Wyman to pick up the pieces after me.” Her mouth is pressed in a tight line, quivering just barely. He taught her to be strong. “I don't think I’m so afraid of dying so much as it is the people I’ll leave behind.”

“You won’t die,” Corvo repeats firmly, meeting her gaze when she looks up. He takes a deep breath. “And Wyman and I are both strong. If you were... incapacitated for any reason, we would be able to take care of ourselves.”

Emily smiles tentatively, rubbing at the corner of her eye. She is always so strong in the public eye, kind but unyielding, wise and just. He forgets sometimes that she still has anxiety over ruling, and still has deep regrets and fears over the death of her mother. He’s grateful to have her still in his life, with her smiles, her fierce words, her teasing but genuine advice.

Emily reaches over and hugs him tightly, her next words muffled in his shoulder, “I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I know losing Mother was hard, but you never stopped being brave.”

Corvo feels his own eyes warm, prickle with the beginnings of tears. He hugs her back firmly. “I’m very fortunate to have you, Emily. I’m sorry we haven’t had much time to spend together.”

Emily laughs a little as she pulls away, wiping at her eyes again. “We’ve both been busy with our love lives, haven’t we? Is everything with the ghost going well?”

Corvo clears his throat as he rubs his palm over his eyes. “He has been good.”

“For his sake, I hope he is,” Emily says, pressing her hand to her sword hilt with a smirk, “I’ve got a  _ very _ sharp blade.”

Corvo shakes his head, smiling. “He’s been fine, Emily. And I’ve been…”

“Happy.” Emily reaches over to squeeze his hands, quiet and sincere when she keeps talking, “I know. I’m glad things worked out. I can tell how much he means to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on my twitter~ [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!


	14. in consideration of forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo ponders the long-term road ahead in their relationship, centuries into the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys!!! we're almost done!!! this is amazing honestly this is my longest project to date and i'm so thankful for all the comments and encouragement i have received along the way thank you so much for all the support!
> 
> nsfw scene// the second half of this chapter does have a sex scene if you want to skip it!

The picnic is nice and quiet. They go to the same meadow they always do, the one the Outsider appeared at all those years ago. Emily and Corvo have started a tradition of making each other’s picnic baskets and then exchanging them. Emily is not a great cook, so she often has to solicit help from Wyman or Callista. Corvo, much to the surprise of most people, does enjoy cooking. He never has time for it, but he finds it relaxing. He knows how to make Emily’s favorite foods off the top of his head.

Emily has a weakness for easy to make pub food, after acquiring a taste for it during her time at the Houndpits Pub. Of course, these foods don’t transition well into picnic meals, but Corvo and her have never minded eating lukewarm food. The picnics are less about the food, more about the time they get to spend together out in the sun.

He makes her a small shepherd’s pie, some fish and chips, some simple sandwiches and a few sweet apricot tarts. Emily makes him rice with blood sausage and egg-in-the-basket using Saggunto toast and salted bread pretzels. She grins slyly as she pulls two flasks and offers one to Corvo. It’s labeled with whiskey, which makes Corvo rolls his eyes and snort as he takes it.

They only finish half of their food before they find themselves full. Emily laughs as she drinks from her flask before standing up, stretching her arms and rolling her shoulders.

“You should train me more, Father,” she suggests, smiling mischievously as she taps the back of her left hand.

Corvo shakes his head, sighing. Learning how Daud shared his Mark’s abilities with the Whalers made Corvo consider how he could use his own Mark to give Emily some skills for emergencies. He does not like training her often with the Outsider’s Mark, particularly because she takes to it too well and learns too fast. More so than that, she finds the powers fun and exciting. Her abilities are born from proximity to him and he hopes she never has to use them because he’ll finish the dirty work before she needs to step in.

He looks around. The meadow is a largely abandoned area, admittedly. It is untended to, and Corvo and Emily had to find a place where the grass was not as tall to lay down their picnic blanket. He sighs before he stands up, prompting Emily to clap her hands together with glee.

Emily is a quick learner. He first began teaching her how to use his skills two years ago at her insistence. Her “blink” ability manifests in a slightly different way, as a shadow arm that flings her safely to her destination. She gains his ability to stop time though and demonstrates a slightly weaker version of windblast. She gets tired slightly more quickly though, which he suspects is a result of being only a secondary conduit to the Void. They race around the meadow with blink and far reach respectively, laying down in the grass and laughing when they’ve exhausted their energy.

They pick at the remaining half of their food while they take a break. As soon as Emily finishes the last of her sandwiches, she dashes off to pluck the stray flowers around the meadow. She sits back down and hums a whalesong while she starts weaving together a flower crown. Corvo tries clumsily to mimic her movements with his own flowers. He’s never gotten the hang of this, even over the years. His fingers are clumsy and his crown always turns out a little lopsided and loose, with some petals rumpled. But Emily never minds, laughing and saying she’s glad he even indulges her. She places her beautiful and intricate flower crown on his head, grinning when he does the same in return, crowning her with his own.

It’s nearing evening by the time they have finished their flower crowns and they are both tired. It’s time to go visit Jessamine’s grave.

They’re both quiet on the carriage ride back to the castle. Alexi leads them to the steps to Jessamine’s memorial on the gazebo where she was killed over a decade ago. She respectfully bows to them both before leaving them alone. Emily presses her hands to the railing, looking out over the city. It’s nighttime now, and it’s easy to see the stars in the sky and the speckle of bright windows, lit up by candlelight or whale oil generators.

“Mother, I’m getting married soon,” Emily says softly, eyes still turned skyward. “I wish you could’ve met Wyman yourself. I think you would’ve loved them. They would have adored you too.”

Emily turns and moves to sit down next to the memorial, setting down her flower crown on top of it, the one that Corvo made. “Here is another one of Father’s flower crowns. I think he is slowly but surely getting better,” she says, giggling.

Corvo shakes his head, smiling. He kneels down on one knee, resting his forearm along the top of one leg as he reaches for Emily’s flower crown atop his head. He takes it off, kissing it briefly before laying it down gently on Jessamine’s grave as well.

“This one is Emily’s. As always, she is skilled with arts and crafts.”

There is a long silence between them as they stare at Jessamine’s grave, at the flower crowns resting atop the marble slate. Emily wipes at the corner of her eyes. Even though they talked earlier in the carriage before the picnic, it’s always different to visit the grave. Emily is so strong and brave and wise beyond her years, but something in her breaks a little when she is at the memorial. Corvo doesn’t blame her. It’s been over a decade, but it is no less difficult.

He gets up slowly, nodding at Emily when she looks up, startled. He smiles, reassuring.

“I’m just going down to the lower garden so you can talk to her for a bit by yourself. When you’re done, I’ll do the same.”

Emily nods, smiling thankfully.

Corvo wanders around the lower garden, taking the time to look at the flowers. It is the middle of summer, so the spring flowers have been replaced with summer flowers, like marigolds, dahlia, and pineapple lilies. Corvo lingers in front of the pineapple lilies. It means beautiful hair. At the risk of being cliché, Corvo admits it reminds him of the Outsider. The god’s hair is always silky smooth and soft, easy for Corvo to tangle his fingers into. He thinks over the flowers the Outsider once said he had thought were a good fit for them.

But he is interrupted from his thought. He looks over his shoulder when he hears footsteps, spotting Emily descending down the steps. Her eyes are slightly puffy, and she has a bawled up handkerchief in her hand. She smiles at him.

“Hi Father. I’ll wait for you to finish too, and then we can walk back and have a late dinner before we head off to bed.”

Corvo nods his agreement, making his way up the steps. He sits down, cross-legged, in front of Jessamine’s grave, quiet. He traces his fingers over the engraving of her name. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, working his throat in a swallow.

“Jessamine, I miss you, every year, the same as always. I was fortunate enough to have you looking over me during the Rat Plague in the mechanical heart. I don’t know if you resent him, the god who temporarily trapped your spirit in the heart, or if you asked him to do so, so that you might be able to guide me on my journey. I suppose it was as much my story as it was yours, the fate of your empire after your death.”

He opens his eyes, looking back over the flower crowns. “I hope that you will not blame me for moving on. It’s been… years now. I’m sure Emily has mentioned the Outsider. He has…”

Corvo hesitates, struggles to find the right words. He wants to be honest with her.

“He has burrowed his way into my heart, I think. And though our relationship has been difficult and tumultuous, we have managed to work things out. He… makes me happy.”

A strong warm breeze brushes by him and he feels his heart skip a few beats. He looks at the grave, as if it will give him an answer. But in a way, he already knows how she feels about it. He touches his fingers to the engraving of her name again, feels a quiet resonance pulse through him, and smiles to himself.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
The Outsider is standing by the window, hands on the windowsill as he looks out at the city. His hair is still barely damp, probably from a shower. He’s dressed in dark silk pajamas and they hang loose and comfortable around his shoulders and hips. When he hears the door close behind Corvo, he glances over his shoulder, a smile starting to curl his lips, his eyes already warm.

“And so, you have returned to me, beloved,” He turns his body around fully and spreads his arms in a flourish, pacing towards Corvo, “when the day met the night.”

Corvo hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as he looks away. He wonders if he should bring up his worries at all, but the churning in his stomach gets worse at the idea of not saying anything. He turns his gaze back up to the Outsider.  
  
The god pauses when he sees Corvo’s expression, dropping his hands to tuck them behind his back. He tilts his head inquisitively, a wistful smile on his lips now. “Did you not have fun with the picnic today? You look very sad, my dear. Troubled.” He steps closer, humming. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Corvo thinks about Emily, back in the carriage, her expression of concern about him and Wyman if she was lost. “What will you do when I die?” he asks, voice quiet.

The Outsider looks at him, surprised. He folds his arms across his chest, looking away with a frown. “This isn't exactly a pleasant line of thinking, my love. I suppose I should have expected this kind of question after your visit to dear Jessamine’s grave.”

He purses his mouth. His green eyes look distant, thoughtful. Corvo thinks if his eyes were black, he would see stars and constellations in them.

“I’ve told you before, dear Corvo— I’ll wait for your soul to be reincarnated,” he says softly, “I’ve been alive long enough to know that this is not a matter of “if". I _will_ meet you again.” He hums, looking back at Corvo with a faint smile, “The only question then is if you will still fall for my charms.”

Corvo can’t help but laugh a little. He slips closer, curling his hands on the Outsider’s hips. He presses his forehead to his, breathing deep, a fondness in his voice as he speaks next, “I’m sure I will. It was impossible to put you out of mind from the moment I met you.”

The god scoffs, and when Corvo looks at him, his cheeks have flushed just the barest hint pink. “Always a flatterer and romantic, Corvo,” he chastises without heat. “Humans have been obsessed with me for thousands of years over the desire for power, wealth, glory, eternal life, eternal youth… what have you. And you?” The Outsider sighs when Corvo presses a kiss to his neck. “You desired me.”

“You said I wasn’t the first one.”

“No, you weren’t.” The Outsider grasps at Corvo’s wrists where his hands are still placed on his waist. He smiles, the curve of his lips wicked, “But they desired my body, of which I never gave. There have been those with petty crushes… none as serious as you.”

“And so, you will wait for me?” Corvo grazes his lips against the god’s forehead, brow furrowed. “What of the centuries in between?”

“I’ll occupy myself one way or another,” the Outsider says wryly, curling his arms around Corvo’s neck to press himself chest to chest against him. “Humans are decently entertaining.”

He seems to be able to sense Corvo’s lingering anxiety and discontent. He lets out a soft breath against Corvo’s mouth.

“You aren’t content with my answer.”

“I’m worried you’ll be lonely,” Corvo admits, “The topic came up today between Emily and I.”

“Mm. To be honest, this isn't a problem that will come up for a long time,” the Outsider says quietly. “As I’ve said, my love, you muddle the timelines I can see. Therefore, the point in the future at which I can see the future of Dunwall clearly means… well. And that is far off, beloved. You are stuck with me for quite a few more decades.”

He kisses Corvo’s mouth sweetly, stroking a hand over his cheek and curling fingers under his jaw.

“No more worries, Corvo. Let me take care of you.”

The Outsider kisses at the shell of his ear, coaxing him towards the bed. He follows the god’s directions, sitting so his back and neck are propped up a pillow against the headboard. The Outsider climbs onto the bed after him, grinning at the look on Corvo’s face as his clothes melt away like water evaporating off his skin.

“I’ll let you undress me next time, beloved,” the Outsider hums as he settles onto the bed.

He kneels down between Corvo’s legs, body still bare and in plain view for Corvo to look at. His cock is already semi-hard and the tops of his shoulders are starting to flush a little. He hums, still on his knees when he leans forward. He nuzzles against Corvo’s cock, still in his pants, and moans as he palms at his thighs. He looks up at Corvo from beneath his long eyelashes, mouth pressed to his cock.

“Can I, Corvo?” he asks mock-sweetly, nuzzling a little firmer against him. “I want to put my mouth on you, Lord Protector.”

Corvo hates that the god knows his weaknesses so well, even if he has never explicitly articulated his interests.

“Please,” he manages to gasp out.

Corvo curls a hand along the Outsider’s cheek, feels his heart skip a beat when the god smiles warmly in response and turn his face to kiss his palm. He unbuttons Corvo’s pants painfully slowly, deliberately palming over him light and teasing as he does so. He finally pulls Corvo’s pants and underclothes down to his thighs, freeing his cock. Corvo hisses as the Outsider ghosts his warm breath over the tip, teasing.

“I wanted to try something else too, my dear.” The Outsider sits up and holds out his hands, wrists pressed together. Black silk ties appear against his pale skin, binding his wrists together. He smiles at the way Corvo’s throat works in a swallow. “Good. You like it.”

The Outsider undoes the magic bindings, instead tucking his hands behind himself. He licks his lips, makes a show of straining his arms against the new ties presumably behind his back. He is still kneeling, so when he leans forward and lowers his head, Corvo can see his bound wrists resting on his back, near his tailbone.

“Eyes here, Corvo,” the Outsider drawls, nuzzling along the underside of his now bare cock.

He tongues at his cock lazily, humming when Corvo shudders. He flutters his eyelashes again, his expression lazy and smug as he suckles kisses along Corvo’s cock achingly slow and brief. He licks over his slit quick before tonguing firmer over it, making Corvo shiver and groan impatiently. He knots his fingers in the sheets, panting as he watches the Outsider lick and kiss at him leisurely, content to take his time.

“Please,” Corvo moans, breath heavy and voice rough with want.

The Outsider seems pleased to hear him beg. He wraps his mouth around just his cockhead, sucking lightly, an amused sound in the back of his throat when Corvo moans, low and breathless. He slides his mouth down torturously slowly, taking his cock all the way until his lips reach the base. Corvo feels weak, head resting against the pillow as he dazedly watches the Outsider start to pull off slowly before beginning to bob his mouth on his cock.

The Outsider is admittedly a little inexperienced, but Corvo doesn’t mind. The god is a little clumsy, slowing down at random times to be mindful of his teeth. He drools a little when he pulls off. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, as he lick his lips. He catches his breath briefly against Corvo’s thigh before he’s sucking his cock down again, mouth wet, eager, and warm. The Outsider moans softly as he works his mouth on him, and Corvo is struck with the desire to see him.

He cards his fingers through his hair gently, catching the god’s attention.

“Sit back. I want to look at you.”

The Outsider makes an amused noise, pulling off his cock slowly with a wet pop. He’s panting a little as he shifts to sit back on his heels with his thighs spread. His cock is hard, leaning back against his stomach, and wet at the tip. He licks his lips, smiling lazily down at Corvo.

“You do so like to watch, don’t you, Corvo?” He rolls his hips, making his cock twitch with the movement. “Perhaps that’s only fair after I’ve spent so much time watching you during the Rat Plague Years.”

“Outsider,” he moans, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“So impatient,” the god teases, shifting to climb up his body, crawling with his knees until he’s hovering over Corvo. He leans down, balance precarious, to kiss him. It’s only a brief press of lips, but the Outsider’s smiling when he kisses him and that alone warms Corvo’s heart. He settles his hips down on Corvo’s own, his cock nudged between the Outsider’s asscheeks. His bound fingers brush against Corvo’s balls, and the god grins when he groans.

“Almost there, beloved. Just a little longer.”

Corvo fumbles with the oil vial before he unscrews the cap and spills a small amount onto his fingers. The Outsider lifts his hips to accommodate Corvo, letting him reach behind him to slip a finger in. He rolls his hips while he fingers him, mouth falling open to pant and moan as he watches Corvo with half-lidded eyes. The Outsider squirms, arms twitching as he strains against his ties.

Corvo thinks he’s lacking patience himself, but that’s not unusual when it comes to the god.

He pulls his fingers out and grips his cock steady for the Outsider. He moans, rubbing up against Corvo’s cockhead before sinking down on it slowly, shuddering. He throws his head back, panting, chest heaving, as he presses all the way down. He breathes out long and slow when he bottoms out, eyes closed and mouth twisted in pleasure. His own cock is wet, dripping a little over Corvo’s stomach. He shivers, licking his lips with a lazy, cocky smile as he opens his eyes again.

“Mm…,” the Outsider sighs, moaning a little as he jerks his hips, “I suppose no toy will ever match up to the real thing.”

Corvo blinks, dazed. “‘Toys’...?”

“Don't even worry about it, my love,” the Outsider says with a snicker. “Focus on the here and now, on me, dear Corvo.”

The Outsider keeps his hands bound and only uses his thighs to roll his hips down into Corvo’s thrusts. He can’t help but feel a little possessive and excited at the sight of the Outsider riding him, wrists tied, and moaning for him. He grips the Outsider’s hips, helps lift his weight and pull him back down as he thrusts harder up into him. The god shakes, his hips rolling weak and sloppy as he gets closer. He whines when Corvo sits up and curls a hand around his cock, already slick with precum along the underside.

“Corvo,” the Outsider moans, panting as he leans his weight forward against Corvo’s chest and weakly rolls his hips. “You’re so good for me, beloved,” he slurs, rutting into his hand sloppily. “So close. Come inside me.”

Corvo groans, letting go of the Outsider’s cock to grab his asscheeks, spreading them as he thrusts up harder. The Outsider moans, grinding hard against his stomach, sticky and slick when he gasps against Corvo’s jaw and comes. He makes a startled but pleased noise when Corvo hugs him close before laying him down against the bed, pinning his tied arms under his body.

“Outsider,” he breathes, shaky as he looks over the god.

The Outsider’s cock is soft, resting against his stomach, still slick with cum. He's shivering a little, back arched as Corvo keeps rocking into him slowly.

“Corvo…”

Corvo grips under his thighs, spreading his legs wider as he starts to fuck the Outsider in earnest. The god arches his back and moans encouragement. He kisses him, messy and sloppy, and clacking teeth as he moans into the Outsider’s mouth. He jerks his hips forward shakily, finishing inside of him. The Outsider undoes his bindings immediately, hands reaching for Corvo’s face, grasping at his neck to tug him into another kiss. Corvo is content to do what the god desires, kissing him deep and slow, exchanging panted breaths and soft moans as they both come down from their high.

The Outsider strokes a hand through Corvo’s hair, smoothing his bangs back, and his smile is so warm and fond it makes his heart ache. “Beautiful, beloved Corvo, lay your doubts to rest. You’re going to be stuck with me for years to come.”

“I love you,” Corvo says impulsively, fiercely.

The Outsider’s expression twists in embarrassment and he looks away. “As do I, you, Corvo.” He curls his hands behind Corvo’s neck, fingers playing at the fringe of his hair, face pretty pink as he whispers, “You are so soft-hearted and sentimental.”

Corvo only smiles, leaning down to nuzzle the Outsider’s cheek, pressing his smile into his skin. “I am weak for you; I can’t help it.”

The god huffs, curling into Corvo’s arms as he settles down next to him. “Did I ease your worries?” he asks.

Corvo snorts, “You distracted me from them.”

The Outsider snickers, kissing his Adam’s Apple with a sly smile. “Oh, so it is _my_ fault that you are a perverted old man.”

Corvo doesn’t answer immediately, instead kissing his forehead with a smile. “Yes, you did help ease them.” He tugs the covers over them both, pressing close to him. “Even a god can get lonely. I worry.”

The Outsider hugs him, kissing Corvo briefly with half-lidded eyes. “I’ll have memories to keep me company. Don’t worry so much.” He nestles against him, closing his eyes. “Good night, dear Corvo.”

Corvo hums, grinning to himself, “Good night, Outsider.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! last stretch, there will be one final chapter left... and i'll post it tomorrow! thanks again for your sweet comments and support! 
> 
> much love~~ <3


	15. Epilogue: the final question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo has one final question.

Esma Boyle, the entrepreneur, gives him lavender candles carved in the shape of roses. He marvels at the one she places in the palm of his hand. It is intricately carved, detailed and beautiful. It’s almost a shame to burn it. The soft lavender smell wafts up to his nose. These candles were created with more care, finely made so the scent is stronger and sweeter and longer-lasting.

“So the Royal Protector is a romantic,” she says teasingly, pressing her fingernail to her lips in a playful gesture. “I hope these candles are to your liking.”

“They’re beautiful, Esma. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she says, waving him off with a huff. “A favor for a favor. For what you did for me and Miss White, we’ll say.”

“All I did was tell you to ask her out to dance,” Corvo says, amused.

Esma rolls her eyes. “I needed the push. We ended up having dinner together after dancing. She is so delightful.” She turns her attention back to her clipboard, picking it up off the nearby table. “Anyway, so you wanted the candles and flower arrangements with balsamine, lily of the valley, poppies, and hydrangeas?”

“Yes, please,” Corvo confirms. “Will you help me furnish the area in gold and purple fabrics as well?”

Esma grins, tapping her pen to her mouth with a wink. “I heard you the first time, lover boy. I still have the checklist here of all the things you requested. And unlike my other clientele ordering things, you are explicit and clear in what you want, so I know exactly what to look for.”

“Thank you.”

He’s grateful Esma doesn’t ask too many questions. There a few items he requested that might be… strange. He approached her with a list of items he wanted ordered discreetly and otherwise. Lavender candles, special dessert wine from Tyvia, treats and pastries made with Serkonan sugarcane and honey, deep purple and pure gold thick and lush fabrics, bouquet arrangements around the courtyard, whalesong recordings… the works. 

He had puzzled over the list for a few hours, working on it before the Outsider came back to his room for dinner last night. He doesn’t think the god is aware of its existence, and he has promised after all, not to pry into Corvo’s affairs.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Getting everything in order takes around a month. Since Corvo is ordering items from Tyvia and Serkonos, the boat rides are long, even on an expedited delivery with a fast, personal ship. He coordinates with Esma to find a storage space for everything without prying eyes. He wants this to be a surprise after all, and that wouldn’t be possible if the servants started gossiping. The Outsider is very good at his job after all. He is always listening.

“Today was so very long,” the Outsider complains, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck. He makes a pleased noise when Corvo places his hands on his shoulders, kneading gently. He sighs, content, and rolls his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. “Very thoughtful of you, my love.”

Corvo leans down and kisses his forehead, smiles when the Outsider opens his eyes to look at him. “Will you come out to the courtyard with me? I hope you’re not too tired. It is warm with a very slight breeze, and so, I thought it would be nice to have dinner outside.”

“Dinner sounds delightful, Corvo.”

The Outsider stands up, taking Corvo’s hand when it’s offered to him with a smile. His smile widens into a grin and a pleased flush starts to color his cheeks when Corvo brings his hand up to kiss his knuckles. Corvo squeezes his hand, interlocking their fingers as he leads them out of his room through the hallways.

The sunset paints the sky and colors the light filtering in in orange and dark blue. It leaves the hallway in a smattering of color and patterns of light and shadow. The Outsider follows Corvo’s lead out of his room, tucking the bedroom door closed behind him. He looks up when Corvo squeezes his hand again.

“What has gotten into you, my dear?” the god asks, voice wondrous and curious.

“Nothing,” Corvo says, and because he is a bad liar and so very weak for the god, he smiles and continues softly, “I am simply in love with you.”

The Outsider’s face twists in embarrassment and he looks away, bringing up his other hand to cover his face as a flush rises on his cheeks. “Corvo,” he says quietly, breathless, as if startled out of him. “You will be my ruin.”

Corvo only smiles, stepping close to kiss him briefly before pulling on his hand. “Follow me.”

The Outsider stares at him with something not unlike wonder and reverence as he acquiesces and follows him. They walk side by side, hands still intertwined. Corvo feels a little embarrassed too when they pass by a maid in the hallway who smiles warmly at them before excusing herself. The Outsider squeezes his hand tighter. Corvo stops before they reach the double doors to the courtyard. He turns back to the deity, smiling.

“Will you close your eyes?”

The Outsider looks at him, an incredulous expression spreading over his face along with a fondness and warmth in his gaze. “What nefarious plans do you have, my dear?”

“Nothing too nefarious,” Corvo promises. “Close your eyes?”

The Outsider closes his eyes with a sigh, but the corners of his lips are curved upwards, betraying him. He trails after Corvo, letting him lead him with their interlocked hands. He watches the god for his reaction as they step into the courtyard area.

The Outsider sniffs the air before smiling. “Ah, lavender. Candles, is it? Or flowers? The smell is so potent, they must be flowers.”

Corvo smiles to himself, pulling him to walk a little further out, closer to the balcony, before he stops. He puts a hand on the Outsider’s chest to stop, leaning close to nose at his cheek. “You can open your eyes now, Outsider. Tethys.”

The Outsider kisses him for his troubles, opening his eyes and curling a hand to his cheek to turn Corvo’s face. He kisses him slow and lazy, humming into Corvo’s mouth. He pulls away, eyes still half-lidded as he strokes his fingers over his beard.

“What wicked tricks do you have for me, dear?” He presses close, curling his other hand in Corvo’s shirt as he turns to look around.

Corvo grins as he sees the way the god’s eyes widen as he takes in the sights around him. His eyes flicker first on the lavender rose-shaped candles around the courtyard, and then he looks at the lush violet purple fabric with gold accents adorning the balcony and draped over their dinner table and seats. His gaze trails then to the large bouquet flower arrangements. He turns back to Corvo, mouth open, eyes wondrous and incredulous.

“You even remembered the flowers for the bouquets,” he says quietly, disbelieving. “Balsamine, Lily of the Valley, poppies, and hydrangeas.”

“I’m not senile yet, thankfully,” Corvo says, smiling. He presses his forehead to the other man’s. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” The Outsider says faintly. He opens his mouth, closes it. He looks very tender and fond when he tilts his head and smiles at him. “I love it, Corvo. I… I’m not sure where to begin.”

“How about joining me for a dance first?” Corvo suggests, stepping back to offer his hand to the god. He bows, sweeping his other hand behind his back. “Will you dance with me, Outsider?”

“I would be delighted to,” he says softly, taking Corvo’s hand.

Corvo grins, bringing his hand up to kiss it before he reaches for the audiograph player with his other hand, sliding an audiograph card into the slot. Soft instrumental music starts playing. He requested music from street performers, traveling bards singing soft love songs. The other audiograph card has whalesongs and recordings of the ocean. He’ll play that one later, for dinner.

The Outsider looks at him adoringly, following his lead as they start dancing slowly to the music. “How long have you had this planned, my love?”

Corvo hums, “A month or so. I’ve had it on my mind since the picnic and visit to Jessamine’s grave.”

“Ah, since  _ that  _ particular night of passion,” he says teasingly. He leans his forehead against Corvo’s. “You’re very thoughtful. Always so ardent, with your heart on your sleeve. You love with every part of your soul, don’t you?”

Corvo noses at his jaw. “Only for you, Outsider.”

The Outsider makes a quiet noise, “You really are the worst,” he says softly, “Devastating. Ruinous.”

He kisses Corvo for his troubles, covering the laugh bubbling out of Corvo’s mouth with his own. He tilts his head, cradling Corvo’s jaw with his hand as he kisses him. He pulls back after a brief press to look at Corvo with his eyes half-lidded, warm, and fond. His eyelashes are long and dark and beautiful on his cheeks. He rubs a thumb over the Outsider’s sharp cheekbones, marvels at his smooth and warm skin with a hum. He kisses him again, and the Outsider makes a pleased noise against his mouth.

It is so easy to get lost in this. The Outsider licks into his mouth, messy, eager, and Corvo can’t help the way his hips jerk. He moans into Corvo’s mouth, clutching him tighter, pulling him closer as he rolls his hips back against him. Corvo stumbles closer as the Outsider tugs him forward, backing them up until he is leaning against the balcony railing. Corvo slips a hand behind him, curling his fingers over the curve of the Outsider’s ass. The god pulls away from him, panting, eyes still half-lidded, heated with interest.

“Corvo,” the Outsider whispers, pressing a finger to his lower lip, making a soft noise in the back of his throat when Corvo sucks his finger into his mouth. “It would be so easy to get… distracted.”

Corvo suckles around his finger loosely before pulling off, moving both his hands to place more modestly against his waist instead. “I got excited,” he concedes, voice coming out a little rougher than he expects. “There’s always time for…  _ this _ ,” he clears his throat, “... later.”

“Yes, I think I’ll keep you up the whole night this time,” the Outsider snickers, teasing. He leans forward, nosing Corvo’s cheek playfully. “The flowers are beautiful, by the way.” 

He turns to look at the flower arrangement next to them. He brushes his fingers against the petals of a poppy flower, gaze on the path of his fingers for a little while before he turns his attention back to Corvo.

“Let’s keep dancing, my love. Sweep me off my feet, won’t you?”

Corvo laughs, hugging him close as they continue to sway in the courtyard. The Outsider rests his head against his shoulder, face turned towards Corvo’s neck as he steps back and forth, matching Corvo’s rhythm. He places his other hand on his waist, modest, fingers loose against the cotton of Corvo’s jacket.

It’s good like this, he thinks, with the Outsider’s warm body pressed to his own. He always smells faintly of the ocean, but more so he smells  _ human  _ with lingering scents of sweet food or ink from writing reports or smoke from standing near the fireplace. The god, so very human, and at the same time, something more, something bigger, and so beautiful and awe-inspiring. Corvo used to think he loved the paradox, but really, it is more of a coexistence, isn’t it?

The Outsider noses his ear, and Corvo can feel his smile against the skin of his neck. He tightens his grip on his hand and on Corvo’s waist.

“The music is lovely,” he murmurs.

“It’s from Karnaca. Street performers, serenading for couples who like to dance on the street.”

“Rose-carved lavender candles. Almost tacky.”

“You like the shape of roses because they are beautiful,” Corvo says, “and romantic. But you like the smell of lavender, because it reminds you of me.”

The Outsider kisses his neck, shivering when Corvo reaches up to trace the scar on his own neck.

“The boy was so miserable, dying a slow death on the street, burning up from the inside.” His skin grows warm under Corvo’s hand, heating up, and there is a subtonal hiss of bonecharms in his voice as he keeps talking quietly, “The boy was afraid of those men in pure white capes with their cloaked daggers and ink stained fingers. He bled out, losing his heart and the warmth the blood gave his body.”

Corvo hugs him close, kissing at his ear and rubbing soothingly at his back.

“A heart and blood makes a human, does it not?”

Corvo leans back, cradling his face in his hands, smiling at the soft, warm look in the Outsider’s eyes. “They never took your soul. You were always human… just a touch removed.”

The Outsider hums, presses his hand over Corvo’s on his cheek, “Perhaps. I lost a lot of myself, what made me human, over four thousand years.” He snickers, pressing his hips to Corvo’s. “How fortunate that a handsome man like yourself has reminded me...”

Corvo feels his cheeks flush a little at the god’s teasing comments. “Do you regret it?” he asks softly.

“No, beloved, we’ve talked about this,” The Outsider shakes his head in Corvo’s grasp, smiling, “this was a much better outcome.” He leans forward, eyes warm and half-lidded, “Corvo. Take me to dinner.”

And Corvo is helpless for him.

Corvo walks the Outsider over to the dinner table. He tugs Corvo back, keeping their fingers firmly intertwined when Corvo tries to pull away.

“I’m only going to tell the servants they can bring the food out now,” he says, smiling at the Outsider’s petulant expression, “I’ll be right back.”

He gets the servants he has requested posted in the hallway after they arrived in the courtyard to get their dinner. They nod eagerly, smiling as he thanks them. They rush off to fetch the food and Corvo props the courtyard door open for their return before he walks back over to the courtyard table.

The Outsider rubs a hand over the tablecloth, his pale fingers in sharp contrast to the dark purple of the fabric. He traces his fingers next over the gold lining and patterning.

“You aren’t worried they will think you an agent of the Outsider?”

“You know as well as I do that they have suspected that for years after I returned Emily to the throne,” Corvo says mildly, leaning a hip against the table. “But you have used magic to clear all ties and associations to the Outsider for yourself. Purple is your favorite color and the gold accents are because of course, you are the Royal Spymaster.”

“Your heart makes you audacious,” the Outsider replies, leaning his cheek into his hand, smiling, “Though I suppose it is easy to ensure there are no consequences.”

There is a long moment of comfortable silence between them before servants return with two food carts. They enter the courtyard with shy smiles. Corvo waves them over and thanks them for their time and service as they start setting out the food for them both. He has already paid them extra for their services tonight, but he has never forgotten his own background as working class. He knows how much it means to be appreciated even with a simple “thank you”.

The Outsider has gotten better at it too. At first, his praise and thanks came out stilted and awkward. Four thousand years is a long time, and he had no one to thank during that time. And so, the god thanks the servants too, smiling.

Corvo wonders if he knows his smile is actually rather disarming. The servant looks a little flustered at the Outsider’s smile, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. The girl next to him elbows him discreetly before sneaking a shy glance at Corvo as they excuse themselves. Corvo walks them back to the courtyard door and patting them both on the back before he closes the door behind them. He paces over to the audiograph and slips a different card in, this one for ocean sounds and whalesongs. He glances over at the Outsider for his reaction, pleased when the god looks over at him, barely wide-eyed as the audio begins to play.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?” the Outsider asks quietly, voice warm and reverent.

Corvo chuckles, deciding not to answer him. He reaches for the bottles submerged in the ice buckets. “I bought dessert wine, but also extra sweetened rum and fireball whiskey,” Corvo says, showcasing the bottles, lifting them up out of the ice before placing them on the table. “I think you will like the fireball whiskey in particular because it is fine and sweet with the taste of cinnamon.”

“Then I’ll have some.” The Outsider slides his shot glass over, humming with his chin resting on the back of his hand as Corvo pours him two fingers of the fireball whiskey. “How exorbitant, Lord Protector,” he teases, taking the glass.

He sniffs at it tentatively, making a sound of appreciation when he presumably inhales the sweet scent. Corvo grins when he sips at it and then licks his lips, looking at the glass of whiskey approvingly.

“It seems alcohol  _ can  _ be fun,” the Outsider says dryly, taking another small sip. “Everything else is so bitter and dry.”

Corvo pours himself some of the whiskey as well before sitting down next to the Outsider. The god seems surprised, perhaps expecting him to take the seat across from him like he usually does whenever they eat together. He scoots close, until he is hip to hip with the Outsider, almost bumping elbows. He leans his head against Corvo’s shoulder as he starts picking at his food, a sweet dumpling soup, with his soup spoon.

“Corvo,” he murmurs, “You would spoil me rotten given the chance, wouldn’t you?”

“Gladly.” Corvo turns to press a kiss into his hair and presses his hand to the small of the Outsider’s back. “I hope you liked this— the dance, the dinner, all of it.”

“I love it. It’s… a lot,” he says slowly, as if unfamiliar with the words, “I am still not used to being surprised. Even after a year and a half now of being human, that is something I have to relearn everyday with you, Corvo,” he says, shaking his head with a chuckle, “Your future is unknown to me. Every gesture you make, every word you say, everything you plan… none of it is known to me.”

Corvo turns his head again, nosing at his hair. “Tell me what your heart desires,” he whispers, kissing at the shell of his ear.

The Outsider breathes, sharp, sudden, startled, “I do not have a real heart, dear Corvo. Have you forgotten in your attempt to be romantic?”

“You say you do not have a heart,” Corvo says, pressing a hand to his chest, where a false human heart beats, “but it beats for me, within me.”

“You think yourself clever, Corvo,” he says faintly, almost chiding, “You think yourself a poet.”

“No, I have no illusions about what I am,” Corvo replies, smiling, kissing his hair one last time before he gets up out of his seat, “I am something far worse than a heretic.”

The Outsider turns to look at Corvo as he gets down on one knee, pulling out a small box out of his pants’ pocket. He covers his mouth, eyes warming, crinkling at the corners, as Corvo slowly opens the box to reveal the wedding ring.

“Outsider, Tethys Lotan, god and human alike,” Corvo says softly, feeling a knot form in his own throat as he tries to speak, “This has been a complicated relationship spanning nearly fifteen years now since we first met. I’m glad I was given this chance to get to know you, Outsider, and fall in love with you. I can only hope you feel the same way towards me.” 

He holds the box up, clearing his throat. He feels the corner of his eyes prickling with warmth as he says his next words.

“Will you do me the honor, Outsider, of marrying me and spending the rest of my life with me?”

“Yes,” the Outsider replies immediately, breathless, as if startled out of him.

Corvo puts his hand out, smiling gently, patient for the Outsider to offer him his own hand. The god does so tentatively, his hand warm, shaking just barely. Corvo squeezes his hand in his own firmly before letting go for just a moment to extract the ring out of the box. He takes the Outsider’s hand again, carefully cradling it as he holds the ring up.

“Had I known you were going to do this,” the Outsider says, his voice warbling a little, “I would’ve touched up my nails.”

“You just told me about how you don’t know the future when it comes to me,” Corvo smiles, kisses at his ring finger. His nails are painted glossy ink black. “Besides, the nails— I think they’re beautiful, just like the rest of you.”

“You’re terrible,” the Outsider says, voice cracking as he covers his mouth with his hand. His cheeks are flushed warm, and his green eyes are unbearably fond.

His hand trembles as Corvo slides the ring onto his finger, kissing it once it’s in place. “It’s whalebone and marble,” he says, still holding the Outsider’s hand in his own. “Carved whalebone and the other half of the ring is fine marble, topped off with a diamond.” He smiles up at the god, holding up his bare left hand to show to him. “Will you put the other one on me?”

Corvo pulls out the other ring box from his pants to hand to the Outsider. The god slides the ring in place on Corvo’s finger slowly, rubbing a thumb against it once he has pushed it all the way up. He looks down at Corvo, squeezing his hand in both of his own.

“Corvo,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, terribly reverent in ways that make Corvo’s heart ache, “kiss me.”

And so Corvo does.

He reaches up as the Outsider leans down and kisses him. The angle is awkward, but it doesn’t matter. The Outsider’s mouth is warm, and he is smiling impossibly wide as he kisses Corvo back. Corvo cradles his face in his hands, feels his heart thud faster at the sensation of his wedding ring against his finger as he touches the Outsider’s cheek. The god reaches up and touches his own chest, left hand over his heart, the folds of his shirt pressing up against his wedding band.

“Corvo,” he says very softly, “I never imagined this possible. Me, becoming human again, residing here by your side. I suppose I had not yet created the universe in my mind where that could happen.”

“Sometimes it’s alright to not have all the answers,” Corvo says, smiling, wide and happy. His heart is still thudding in his chest, and he feels warm and giddy. He strokes his cheek with his thumb, leaning forward again.

“Yes,” he agrees, smiling into the kiss Corvo presses to his lips.

“It’s alright to not know. It’s alright to simply be human and alive and in love.”

(And so, he became human, after all.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!!! we're finally here at the end. it was such a long ride and i can only hope that you guys had as much fun and enjoyed this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it.
> 
> some final trivia to share:  
> \- you must first create the universe, the title, comes from Carl Sagan's quote, "If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe." The inspiration came from the fact this was meant to be a cute short fic exploring the Outsider's sweet tooth in a domestic setting, but it ended up meaning the creation of an environment or universe in which the outsider can feel human again.  
> \- tethys comes from the Titan goddess Tethys. despite being a "female" name, i'm of the opinion names don't really have gender and it felt like the most suiting name for the outsider!
> 
> again, i want to thank you all for coming on the long journey of this fic with me. i, of course, plan to keep writing in the future, and i hope you guys will join me for my future projects! please, get to know me and come talk to me on my twitter!!! [@runtlock](https://twitter.com/runtlock) or on my [tumblr](https://pyrality.tumblr.com/) here!
> 
> thank you for everything! and merry early christmas!!!


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